


Waxing Flower

by KayosTerum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark, Dark Severus Snape, Disability, Disabled Character, Drama, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Severus Snape Lives, Slow Burn, Torture, Trauma, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 62,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayosTerum/pseuds/KayosTerum
Summary: A cold war brews as the Prince tries to navigate saving multiple lives, including his own.A new Jr. Healer may be his undoing, particularly when he discovers she is the same one he tried to save from a Muggle Baiting attempt years prior.Forced to work together, he must now navigate the complexity of his feelings while she deals with the repercussions of her injuries. Beneath the surface, war threatens to erupt, and her burgeoning feelings for an Alive! Sirius Black forces him to confront decades-old demons long thought dead.Featuring an AU in which the events at the Department of Mysteries never happened, Sirius Black never died, and war lurks under the surface. Darkfic, featuring explicit content and a morally gray Severus Snape. Please note content warnings.Beta'ed by Its_Jareth_Binch
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Severus Snape/Original Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in over a decade (longer, if I'm being honest), so you'll have to pardon if I'm a bit rusty. I wanted to create a work now as an adult woman that I felt was reflective of my interests and views today, but functioned primarily as a steamy original work. With a focus on dissecting many of the sociopolitical ideas, gender norms, and expectations in Harry Potter from the lens of the 21st century. This fic is now beta'd by the fantastic @Its_Jareth_Binch
> 
> In other words, this is a heady fic. Obviously I only recommend this for people of 18 and up, and that it comes with a great caution warning of violence, discussions and depictions of rape (albeit not graphic on this last, and I will try to warn specifically when this occurs in chapter headings). And covers on topics of Pure Blood Ideology-based oppression, disability, and violence. This is not a lighthearted fic. I still put in many moments of fluff, and a good deal of what I hope is fan service.
> 
> I should say: This book, like any romance, has depictions of love and sex. I would not be myself if I did not warn that this is meant to be a steamy erotic work between two fantasy characters in a fantasy setting. It does not depict healthy or productive views of love and communication, and the two characters are both flawed human beings meant to be viewed only within the context of the fantasy realm in which they exist. If you are a young adult like I was when I first started reading this realize: communication, discussion and consent are the cornerstones of a relationship. And reading about sexy steamy fun is great, as long as we understand it's not meant to be reflective of reality. Love is a gift, not a burden.
> 
> I welcome as always, all feedback and comments.
> 
> Anti Litigation Charm:  
> Obligatory "I own nothing but the skin on my back and if I made money from this it'd be a lot longer" disclaimer

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

**January 17th, 1998**

His presence was more felt than distinctly known. It crept up on you like a deep slumber, born of long days and drifting winds on your brow.

"That will be 6 more Pepper Ups by morning. For once," he enunciated," if you could try to leave the storeroom in any fit state, I might find you with an off period. You may go." He had already stalked away as the words hit him. 

"I can't tonight, Professor. I'm otherwise occupied."

So like a panther. Coiling, precious in its intensity. From stretching languidly amidst the trees to crouching, ready to strike. He balanced on one foot, swiftly turned, trudged half a step, and forced himself to pause before squeezing out, "Pardon? Did you say you could  _ not _ complete the tasks I had set out?"

"I was informed by Deputy Headmistress McGonagall that my presence was required at the meeting. Minerva did, in fact, reassure me that I  _ was _ wanted. What a funny little misunderstanding. Harry mentioned the same thing. Now, why would that be, Professor?" Small in stature, deft in nature. Her words poised in the air with half as much assurance as he, placed cautiously, like a young cub still finding their way but blustering through more with courage than wit or reason.

All at once, his anger visibly faded and stilled beneath the surface, his face a mask again, his body stiff. He took one stride. His robes billowed softly, almost as if floating on the raw energy. There was no wind in the dungeons; the air was stiff, hot, wet, and languid. But the heat - the crackle of anger, of energy, she knew not - came off in waves, adding perceived width to his slight frame. She gulped.

"I just want to know why." He considered as she placed the words cautiously. Entreating to his better nature that she hoped was there. "I will not go, if you ask me to, or" - she added, seeing his anger rising - "if you tell me to. Just, please. Tell me why." She couldn't prevent her voice from cracking.

"Perhaps you mistake me," He says. Sinking back into his practiced, impartial, nearly aristocratic position. Striding forward now, punctuating each step with a word. "It" - by the door - "Was" - near her hip - " Not" - by her ear now - "a  _ Question. _ "

Standing back up, he dwarfed her. She had to crane her neck to stare up at him. Breath hitched, thick underground air choked past parted lips, slightly shaking chest, delicate clavicle, into parched lungs. A second. An eternity. 

"Please, sir. I don't have a choice. Dumbledore's orders." 

At the mention of the old man, he - quavered? No... he shifted. His gaze. His stance. His being. A note, to file away and store for later discernment on what that could mean, what could quell this imposing man.

"Rock...and a hard place," she whispered, trying to point out the literal corner she was nearly backed against. He stared at her, eyes pressing. A familiar pressure on the back of her skull.  _ Please, not again, not today, _ she thought. And then it vanished, as if never there.

_ Did he not want to do this? Is he getting more gentle? Or am I getting mercy? _ she prayed silently.

"We will...continue this later. I will pick you up at 9. You are to be ready exactly on time. You will sit by me, and we leave upon my command with  _ no _ ...distractions. If there are any errant dog hairs on my coat, you may find yourself in worse positions than this one...here." He stressed the last syllable, leering down as if trying to press her further into the wall, into the ground. Whether to squash her or enfold her into himself, she did not know. The thought glimpsed across her mind. Barely a blip.

One breath. In. Out. He stalked away before she could register his presence was gone. The bit of warmth and steam between their bodies she didn't notice dissipated as soon as he did.

_ Shit. _ She thought to herself.  _ This means I have...three hours. Before the Order. Before chaos. _

"FUCK." she exclaimed.

"...and I still have to scrub out the first year cauldrons..."


	2. Chapter 2: A Meeting

Content warning for some physical abuse references to past events.

**July 23, 1997.**

The limp should have been a dead giveaway, but it was the eyes, the stony, grey-blue eyes shining out of that round, dark-lashed face. Lightly tanned skin with olive undertones showed small smile lines, and the slightest whisper of a gray on finely textured sandy brown hair, hitting mid-back.

She looked nothing like the quivering, sobbing, bloodied mess he'd first known her as. He'd take it as he got it. All of this was processed in a moment's blink, nothing being betrayed by his face. He studied for this. He knew this. He lacked for nothing for his stoicism. Too much rode on his need for constancy, and any deviation could mean death - for him, for the boy, for all of them.

Her startle upon his introduction brought the smallest hint of a smirk in him, drowned in a moment. "Ah, yes, thank you for coming. Severus," the old man intoned from his left, facing the woman who had now entered his office. "Have you met Ms. Azalea Beauvais? She is going to be assisting Pomfrey this upcoming year."

Before the blue-eyed wizard had gotten halfway through Severus' name, recognition had already dawned on the girl's face. Horror, disgust, confusion, shame, revulsion - all seen and gone in the blink of an eye. Contempt was coming off of her in waves. This was nothing new to Severus. He was used to this kind of reaction. He had seen many people in worse states of repair at their last meeting: bloodied, broken, tortured, spent, dismembered, disemboweled. This had long since died down to a dull throb that he hardly even noticed if he didn't stop long enough. He couldn't think about the screaming.

What he did  _ not _ often see, what gave him pause, and - he inwardly admitted to himself - felt foreboding, was seeing those same victims looking relatively whole and alive the next day.

He inwardly applauded the girl for managing to hold back a gasp, choking back whatever she might have said before managing to breathe out, "Charmed. It's lovely to see you again," in the barest whisper of a southern Yank voice. She sounded...poor. Rural. Severus Snape could never handle Americans in general, but something about the southern variety reminded him too much of the working-class poor of his Manc roots. Reminded him that deep down under his robes, he was what his father always accused him of being - nothing but a dirty Northern boy playing at class. He shoved the thought away to focus on the situation at hand.

Albus eyed the pair, who still stared at one another with awkward, stilted silence. "Well, it seems you two are already acquainted." Severus choked back a laugh that would have sounded oddly like a bark in his throat. She had referenced their time together. How - brave? Foolhardy? Stupid? He didn't focus on it.

"Yes," she said. She gave a cold smile that didn't pass to her stormy gray eyes. "In passing."

"So," the old man intoned, clapping his hands loudly enough to rouse them out of their stupor and bring their attention back to him. With his soft, creamy, long white hands in lilac robes with the lightest lime green details, Albus Dumbledore was not a man to be easily missed when he meant to be listened to. Even dark memories would be put on the back burner for this meeting, which somehow seemed pregnant with untold potential. For what remained to be seen.

"Ms. Beauvais- Lea, I believe?" She nodded in assent at the correction from the old wizard. "Lea will be taking over a portion of the potion making for the infirmary. Poppy will appreciate a break, and I anticipate you will as well, Severus." He twinkled at the dour man.

Severus's eyes bore into her. He needed to know what she remembered, what she  _ thought _ she remembered. He knew Dumbledore was cunning, but he could not have missed the connections here. And of course, Albus - the conniving, Machiavellian master - had not even let Severus know anything other than that a new healer would be joining the infirmary and taking over some of his duties. While Severus mutely debated the possibility of fewer things on his plate, invariably some green witch would come in, try to take over his work, and end up mucking up the place so badly he'd have to do even more damage control.

As his Legilimency slipped  _ slowly, gently _ past her gaze, he was met with a hazy rush of images, crashing down upon each other. It was more disordered than he could've imagined and clearly said that there had been little to no healing since their experience. With a piercing cry, he saw the girl stumble, hand going up to her head as her knees buckled and she shook to stand still. He exited her mind as gently as could be managed. Clearly, even small intrusions would cause great pain; he had not seen a reaction this strong to Legilimency in some time. He needed to go about this in a different way.

_ I will find out what she knows. _ He thought to himself grimly.  _ Foolish, blasted girl, bumbling in and mucking everything up, _ adding more on top of the shit sandwich of his day, part of his fecal-based charcuterie that was his life.

Albus quickly shot a glance that, while warm for the rest of his face, had blazing eyes.  _ Damn the old man _ , he mused. Clearly, he knew Severus was using Legilimency, something he had cautioned against unless 'absolutely necessary' - as if the old man ever took any such precautions for himself.

"Lea, Madam, are you alright?" Albus intoned, now warm eyes shooting concernedly back over at the young woman wobbling on unsteady feet. She stood up then fully, core shaking lightly, and only the barest of tremors up and down her left arm, mainly seeming to only affect her pinky and ring fingers on her left hand.  _ Bizarre _ . The tall, dark-haired wizard was no stranger to Dark curses, but he had not seen a trauma pattern this unique in some time. Clearly, he needed to get her alone as soon as possible.

"Yes." The slightest hint of strain was in her voice, and that ridiculous southern lilt that passed as charm was still bright. "Just a slight headache. Obviously, I'm jetlagged as the muggles say."

A small moment passed as the girl composed herself, Severus remarking internally once again that she seemed to be putting on airs. Whether that was out of social niceties or the fear the Potions Master saw prickling at her eyes and reeking out of her ears, he knew not. 

"Headmaster," she intoned, getting more serious now as her body righted itself fully. "I am confused. I was aware I would be helping to brew potions for the infirmary, which of course, I am incredibly happy to do. But what is this about picking up Master Snape's work?"

_ Bold girl _ .

"Professor Snape - Severus has quite a lot on his plate, and we decided it would be best for him to have some of the easier potions handled for him so that he can focus on other projects and his teaching. We have so many new first years this upcoming year. Having extra potions in stock in the infirmary may do a world of good." She looked frustrated now. He inwardly smirked. Clearly, she didn't know when to shut up. 

"I'm happy to help in any way necessary. And I feel more than capable with the list of potions you've provided that you need on a regular basis. But, with the interest of shooting myself in the proverbial foot, why on earth are you substituting work from a Master Potioneer with someone who didn't finish their apprenticeship? I mean no disrespect, but you are putting me in a very uncomfortable position professionally. I am not sure how you do things in England."

Snape grew furious. Of course the infernal woman would think that she was doing him a favor, sticking up for him. He had just as well told Albus it was a foolish decision, that he couldn't possibly have thought this through, but to hear her defend him as if he had no ability to stand up for himself... it was infuriating. They were speaking as if he wasn't in the room two feet from them, as if he was a child watching two grown parents fight over who was taking him for the weekend.

"Nonsense," Albus waved her words away with a pleasant smile and a tone that somehow brooked no arguments but made you feel as if it was your own idea and were totally on board. "He will need all the help he can get, and you will be a great addition to our staff. I'm certain Severus can provide a list of  _ reasonable _ things with which you can assist that will benefit the school but not stand in the way of your other Healing duties."

She smiled briefly and then curtsied, like a child trying to be quaint. Doubtless, wherever she had been before here had put up with way more posturing than he himself was going to deal with, the potioneer thought bitterly.

Albus dismissed them. Watching the girl saunter - no, limp - out of the room was another interesting feat. It was the smallest little tilt of a hip, some clear incongruity, or wrongness in her footing. Most would not notice it, but Severus Snape was not  _ most people _ . He wondered when she'd sustained that injury, before or after their encounter. He remembered no such strain on her hip, but then again, he didn't get a chance to properly look her over before it all went to hell.

And now, thanks to the old man and his furious meddling, he'd get nothing  _ but _ chances to investigate her and her strange ways further.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story there will be jumps in time, please pay attention to the dates. As I write, as some things may not be obvious or feedback is received, I will try to change the story as necessary.  
> Also some things to consider about this A/U universe
> 
> 1) While my character is an OC, I tried my best not to make her a Mary Sue. Many things in this book are based after canon history, and I take some liberties as well. I tried to make everyone as canon accurate as possible character wise, however I am not perfect, and some may seem out of context.
> 
> 2)This takes place primarily during Harry's 7th year. The department of Mysteries never happened, and the Battle of Hogwarts has not taken place. In this world, the Horcrux hunt doesn't exist, nor does Voldemorts split soul. You may notice some things out of place or storylines slightly different, this is intentional. Large parts I sourced are still canon.
> 
> If you ever read something that seems like a plot hole, please leave feedback. However, if you find yourself thinking "that didn't happen in the books", usually, there is a point to that. 
> 
> Happy reading!


	3. Chapter 3

cn: extremely mild trauma mention

**September 16, 1997**

Madam - Poppy, she had insisted - had said that things may be stressful. Stress was an understatement. Stress like she hadn't known since her day at St. Mungos abounded.

Lea bustled quickly between corridors, trying to keep up with the flow of students and even teachers who regularly saw her at all hours. Being a Junior Healer, her nights and weekends were filled with annoyances. Not yet being trusted with serious injuries that she  _ hoped _ would be infrequent, most of the minor scratches, dings, and bruises were now in her field.

Any number of bumped knees on first years, minor cauldron burns, confusing hexes, failed Shrinking or Engorgement charms, Quidditch concussions, and the occasional sprained ankle made her way. While certainly overwhelming, this didn't bother Lea. She enjoyed getting to know the students, especially the younger years. While they primarily called her "Healer Lea" - she blustered when she heard her full name used and insisted they not bother calling her  _ Madam Beauvais -  _ many called her "Ouch please," "Don't touch that," or the occasional curse word that she silently swore she hadn't heard.

While the Matron did assure her she was allowed to sparingly take house points or make suggestions for detentions as rule-breaking allowed, Lea swore to herself to never take points off for mild flips of the tongue while in pain or delirium. After all, if the words were only said in pain and not directed at another student, she would feel cheap trying to spring it on the students in her care.

The main issue she had stress-wise was the tall, blustering Potions Master, who seemed to always keep an eye on her while she somehow never caught his direct gaze. Instead, she saw too many bat-like appendages and cloak flips from the corner of her eye as he stalked away at random intervals or managed to avoid-her-yet-not-avoid her during her nightly walks among the courtyard and wanderings of the castle during her rare free periods.

It was a full two weeks before she was allowed to step foot in the dungeons. Since their initial meeting, she had avoided him with as much alacrity as she allowed herself, but she swore she would not be as fearful as she felt. For one, she was not 100% sure she saw him that night. His voice was unmistakable - indeed, it was his voice she recognized before she recognized his face - and inwardly, she knew there was no one else. While she was new to the continent save for her time in the 'looney bin' as she internally called it, his reputation had followed him further than her experience did. He was even known overseas, albeit as nothing more than the Dark-rumored but heavily respected Potions Master her previous Master and mentor had mentioned writing occasionally. A name amongst many in the potions journals and reviews she religiously studied back in the States under her former Master.

Her prior Potions experience was such that she hoped only to study as a Junior Healer for a year or two - not wanting to become a full Madam, but hoping to gain the hands-on experience she would need before accomplishing her goal of creating healing potions with an emphasis on healing dark magic. She hoped at some point to apprentice to a proper Master in England or wider Europe to gain a specialization in Potions, as her previous education was cut short. That was a goal she saved far in the future. The general theme was 'one day at a time' for her immediate future.

When Poppy had insisted that they were running low on Potions after the first years and first Quidditch practice games, that Lea had more than enough time to adjust to her surroundings, that she was fully acquainted with the majority of the staff and students, and that there was no more stalling, she finally made her way begrudgingly down to the dungeons.

As she knocked nervously, the door shot open. She noticed no one there and assumed it had been wandless magic. She stepped into the dark, dimly-lit classroom and promised herself that she was not going to cower from this man. She knew what she had signed up for and was already aware a Dark wizard, a  _ Death Eater, _ was on staff and was sworn with the most assuredness from one Albus Dumbledore he was one of the kindest, most loyal folks around, despite his gruff exterior. She seriously doubted it but would treat him with all the kindness and gratitude that was beaten into her at a young age by her overbearing Pureblood mother insistent upon Southern manners. (Provided, of course, your blood status insured such rights.)

The tall, black-haired wizard now appeared from a far corner and stalked towards her as if floating. His austere demeanor was set with squared shoulders, high cheekbones, a Roman nose, and fine, straight black hair flaring out slightly at the shoulder-length ends. His robes were of darkest black with buttons ( _ so many buttons _ she thought) cinched tight.

He looked her up and down as if appraising his latest kill before jumping to business. "Are you going to come in, or will you continue gawking at me like a first-year seeing a Veela for the first time?"

She gave a curt nod and stepped through the door as it closed, locked, and warded behind her wordlessly.

"While I have more than assured our most  _ generous _ Headmaster," he intoned, stone-faced, "that I am more than capable of providing the necessary potions, I will nonetheless take your proffered... assistance." She was glad at this last comment - was that an insult? Or a compliment? Coming from him, she could not tell.

"Master Finbok assured me that you showed promise from a young age in regards to many basic elixirs. While this is hardly worthy of note considering that the potions you will be making are often ascribed to our OWL-level students, it is only with his assurance that I am allowing you this access." She looked up at him squarely as he lightly paced and rearranged the room, now not meeting her eyes. His words were piercing, and she hung on every word. He seemed someone who didn't wish to waste a syllable or his time.

"It hardly seems worth continuing with someone who couldn't even finish their basic education, but I will allow you this chance. While you may report directly to Poppy," He stopped now putting down the bottles he was organizing, stalking closer as his words became more terse. "Do not make any mistakes about your role here. Anything you wish to submit, any changes you wish to make, any hope you have of progressing here will be affected directly by me. Let it be known  _ I am watching you, Ms. Beauvais _ , and it is only by my will that you will accomplish anything here... or in the extracurricular activities which I've been informed you will be attending."

She repressed a shudder. The idea of encountering this man not only in close quarters but in Order meetings was still a shock to her system, but she would repress it as necessary. "Of course, sir," she said, her voice not wavering. "I'll be happy to do as needed."

He visibly relaxed, shooting back into his uninterested self, as if she was a mild spot on his coat he flicked off then disregarded. "Good. Now, if you'll make yourself useful. I have left a list of the ingredients you are allowed to touch and the hours in which you are allowed to procure them. While you are allowed a small space in your room to mix ingredients, until I sign off on your efforts, you will brew only here, and only during times I allow it. Do not be mistaken - this is no social call, and idle chat is strongly discouraged." His voice was languid, musical. She listened to him and knew this was the voice that had haunted her dreams since waking up in St. Mungo's those years ago.

"I am not one to mince words, Professor." 

He looked at her fully now, a full foot shorter than he and while not a slip of a woman, still slight compared to many. She somehow seemed to drown under the weight of the flowy, champagne-colored robes she had donned. 

"Of course I want to succeed here. I am going to assume you do not like to chat much. I will not say I will never speak, but my goal here is to work, do my job, and nothing else. As for our... extracurricular activities, my goal is the same as I was told. I am to do what is needed and no more. As you are... sufficiently frightening," she noticed the barest hint of a smirk at this remark, "I can assure you I have no urge to get on your bad side. I'll get to work now."

He watched her grab the list of ingredients and make herself busy. She turned around several times as if lost before spotting his storeroom, and wordlessly cast spells to begin arranging the cauldron he had placed out for her and silently remove some of her own instruments from a canvas bag she had brought. It seemed to be charmed to contain more than its notebook-sized shape allowed, but he paid it no mind. He stalked over to his chair, sat down decisively, and pulled at one side of a stack of papers that seemed to overflow with script. He retrieved a quill charmed to require no ink and started furiously scribbling in red across the papers.

He watched her in the way only a spy of 20 years could, without ever perceptibly lifting his gaze or giving her any indication her presence was even noticed. She seemed to work deftly, albeit with a slight tremble in her extremities. It didn't seem to affect her cutting or assembling of ingredients, though he watched her acutely for any fumble, any twitch, even the slightest indication of imperfection. It was not even full dusk, and yet he already wished it was time for whatever small amount of sleep he would get that night. Several yards away lighting a cauldron, she thought roughly the same.


	4. Chapter 4

**September 27, 1997**

More grey than he remembered the last time he checked this morning, the lycanthrope looked away from the mirror and quickly shuffled out of the bathroom after doing his duties and bustled towards a busy kitchen readying himself for the meeting. Chuckling softly as he saw the newest member of the Order nervously sitting in the living room, he moved over to the kitchen door and sat himself as close to the entrance as it allowed. Many of the Weasleys and the youngest members of the Order were already there. Mad-Eye stalked moodily over in the corner mumbling something to his bright-haired mentee, and Kingsley graciously accepted a piping hot cuppa from Molly.

As he sat down in the seat next to Harry, who had been newly inducted with his fellow cohorts just the month prior with his 17 birthday over Summer. Despite much grumbling from the older members (particularly Molly), Harry's views and contributions had long since been acknowledged and even respected. He was even allowed to leave Hogwarts to attend meetings, provided he was always accompanied by an Order member and it did not conflict with his studies. There were too many Death Eaters on the prowl since the prison break, and too many chances for danger, Remus thought glumly.

His heart burst as Tonks sat on his other side. Her hair a bright shade of fuchsia that set off her sparkling eyes, he felt an angry lump in his stomach twist. After confessing her feelings the prior spring, there was an unspoken angst between them. He allowed himself only a few stolen moments of pleasure on their (many) overnight missions, but had always stopped her short of anything sans-clothes. He felt his resolve chip away every time she looked at him, though the older wizard was loathe to admit it even to her.

Dumbledore now entered the kitchen, and sat at the head of the table, magically enlarged for this event. The new healer traipsed alongside him, hollow-eyed and quiet, as she had said in the sitting room. She stood awkwardly for a moment, as Sirius, his longest and dearest friend sitting across the table, gestured to the seat empty at his side. She gratefully smiled and went to sit near him. As they were waiting on the last member (the dour Potions Professor), there was still some light chatter as members settled in place and caught up on the latest news. 

"Ms. Beauvais", the Boy who Lived said from his other side. "Have you met Sirius? This is his home."

The woman smiled brightly at the young man, her smile genuine, always seeming to bring forth warmth for any of her students old or young. "Lea, please. I haven't had the pleasure." Sirius gave her an intense look Remus hadn't seen much since their school days as Black extended his hand, gently taking hers. He gave her a firm but gentle handshake as he met her eyes. She smiled, albeit more warily than she did for Harry. Seeming to almost shy away from the man's touch.

"Please," the grizzled former Azkaban prisoner intoned. "Make yourself at home. The blasted house elf will get you anything you desire, even if he complains about it. Any Order member or ...friend, is welcome here, anytime day or night. This should be a safe haven to you." She seemed to pause on that, reviewing him for a moment before speaking, taking in his words.

"Thank you, Sir, I'm very grateful." she spoke quietly, barely visible above the din of the chatter in the room. (Remus tried not to notice as Sirius bristled at being called ' _Sir_ '.) "Everyone has been so kind." her voice quavered at the last bit. Remus had been made loosely aware of the abuse that the witch had experienced before her stint at the hospital, though he was nearly sworn to secrecy via wand-oath by the Headmaster, as to the extent of it. Dumbledore had asked Remus to make sure she was at home, without forcing it on her. He intoned that she was still wary of many in close-knit social situations, though certainly not shy otherwise. 

"Now Padfoot", Remus broke in, seeing her shrink under Sirius' continued gaze, "We don't want to give Lea the wrong impression about your legendary _friendliness_ ", he teased his longest-living friend. 

"Padfoot?" she said curiously, eyes sparking up. "That's an interesting one I haven't heard."

"Oh," Harry continued, "you haven't heard of his many _hairy_ adventures," several around the table laughed, as the young healer continued to look bewildered. She stood for a moment, eyes darting between Harry and Sirius and back again, her eyes focused for a moment on the his godfather's hair. Then closer at his blue eyes. She stood up slightly in her chair, wobbling on her unsteady feet, and leaned closer to the Black heir. Bizarrely, she seemed to abruptly sniff his hair. Her eyes grew wide in horror as she stood up swiftly and took a step back. 

"YOU-- _you_ ," she sputtered, before she could reach her wand, Mad-Eye had already crossed the room and pressed his wand to her neck. The entire room went stalk quiet as some of the older Order members reached for their hips or into their sleeves, waiting on the grizzled Wizard's queue. "What is the meaning of this? Albus?" he looked at the Order leader for wisdom before, as was his first instinct Remus was sure, blasting her head off first and asking questions later.

"Explain, Ms. Beauvais." Albus inquired with a tone laced with seriousness despite his cheerful demeanor.

"You...bastard." she said more quietly. "You don't HAVE a dog, do you?" she asked to the room. There were a few quiet snickers from the red-headed twins that were quickly squashed by their mother shushing them furiously. "You...you sat in my LAP. I r...I rubbed your belly. I ought to hex your bollocks into next week." There was a moment of stoney silence before many folks broke into laughter, including the woman herself. Sirius gave her a cheeky grin before she took her hand off of her wand and gave him a sharp slap upside the head. Mad-Eye had removed his wand already from her chin, at Albus' silent nod. She still glowered at the older tattooed wizard, but sat back down while two rosey points hit high on her cheeks. She looked forward, her shell now encasing her again, the moment of humor lost back on her silent expression.

The werewolf saw Tonks exchange a knowing look with Sirius, the latter giving a noncommittal shrug before his eyes returned to the sandy-haired witch to his right, her staring off into space. 

Sirius had been staring at her for a good portion of their time in the kitchen, albeit surreptitiously. Remus began to grow concerned. He was used to Sirius' flirtations, but hadn't seen them much--not that they had been afforded many opportunities--since their school days. He worried what this could mean for his mild mission of befriending the witch from Dumbledore, (one likely not extended to Black for reasons that couldn't be far related from his prior school conquests), but as the Headmaster had expressed no ill content himself at the prior altercation, the meeting continued as normal. _Dog-related offenses certainly shouldn't be any more offensive than the Weasley twins' latest ventures,_ Lupin mused.

Without delay, a moment later a large, imposing, bat-like figure stormed into the room. All robes and fury and a flurry of black fabric as he stormed to the back of the kitchen into what passed for the darkest corner in the room. All at once the room became quiet and all eyes turned to Dumbledore.

He started with some basic Order news on the news of the day as well as some references to the prior meetings. This was the first meeting on some time with all of the major members attending, and was likely the last one to feature so many before the school year was underway. 

"As you well may know," he spoke, his blue eyes twinkling, "We have several new members here tonight. You may already know our Mr. Potter from the summer," he gave a smile to Harry which the boy returned, laughing at their joke of him needing an introduction, "but our newest member is Ms. Beauvais. She has insisted you call her Lea. She has already met several of our members, including some rather extensive questioning from Mad-Eye, and has spent a good deal of time with Minerva as well. She comes from the States, was a member of the Muggle-Born Resistance Movement, and has had some personal experience with the War." the witch flinched at this subtle mention to her 'disability' as she termed it. "Her primary work is to turn to Hogwarts as a healer, but she will be providing some potions stock and some assistance to Order members healing wise, as well."

He continued, the rest of the members enraptured, "Bringing in new faces is not something we do often, particularly during times this dire. Trust does not come easy, to any of us. However I can assure you she comes on the recommendation of an old friend, and that I trust her implicitly. Her reasons for being her are many, but I hope she can be welcomed as a new family member. Please, get to know each other. Remember; all we have in these times are each other. It is only with trust that we can move forward. This will be our most divisive year yet.

"The Ministry still refuses to acknowledge the existence of Voldemort, "many shuddered at this mention, "and Tom is doing everything in his power to infiltrate them from the inside. Do not let it be said any less explicitly; war is coming. We will need every ally we can get. Please don't let this time prevent you from enjoying the few moments of peace and joy we have with one another." Remus thought he felt the slightest bit of a side eye as the old man looked directly at him, for the briefest moment. _They can't leave me alone, can they?_ the DADA professor thought. _They know I just want her to be okay. I can't lose someone again._

"There are some plans I need to discuss with some of you privately, and some that need to be said more openly. Are there any updates since we last left off?"

The meeting was full swing underway at this point, with the newest news of Muggle baiting attacks on the rise, suspected infiltrations at the Ministry, new workings of the Death Eaters, and some of the suspected efforts at Hogwarts to watch out for the next year.

It was only as Minerva gave her report and when the formerly-but-still-kind-of Dark wizard was halfway through his latest spiel that Remus noticed her eyes. It wasn't him that noticed per say, but Tonks, who nudged him under the table before pointedly shrugging in her direction.

The fear. She looked at the tall man as if he was barreling down with the Cruciatus barely on his lips . It was in the smallest tremble of her lips and the way that her tremor in her left arm and her right leg seemed to speed up that he felt. While movements on the table were not uncommon, he felt the slight uneven thrumming of the table as it moved from her leg shaking quickly up and down. He wondered if it was involuntary, or if she noticed. When the room was finished speaking, folks pairing off to silently discuss their individual missions, catch up with friends and loved ones. Or, in the case of the younger Weasleys and the Golden Trio, splitting off to use the rare social time to play their latest game or try out the latest Weasley invention. Remus heard Sirius speak to the girl across from him.

"Would you like a drink?" she was alone now, as the seats on the other side and around her had emptied as folks split off. The potions professor had stalked out of the room and Disapparated as soon as his part was finished, off some other great adventure or depressing monotony, Remus assumed. "It doesn't have to be alcoholic. I have tea, juice, uh--"

"Coffee?" she asked expectantly. "I know that Brits are really into tea, and I'm sure I will have to develop a taste for it and wan to seem grateful--"

"Of course," he smiled warmly. She seemed stilled for a moment, as if seeing some great wonder but afraid to step closer. "I'm sure we can rustle some up. KREACHER." A loud crack made her jump. Remus inwardly wondered how common house elves were overseas.

"Yes Master", the elf bowed deeply. Clearly annoyed, he had only just began repairing his damaged relationship with the elder Black. Still only begrudgingly accepting his fate. 

As the resident 'dog' gave his order, the house elf Disapparated with one last crack. Remus tried his best to retain composure, as Tonks was now running her hand up and down his thigh. Nobody else seemed to notice, and nerves sent little shocks of electricity up and down his spine. Damn, but did the witch know how to hit his gentle heart. He tried not to pull her hand away, to enjoy this stolen moment. He would be at the school in the next few hours, and it's not as if he'd have much opportunity to 'sneak away' anyway. For the few excursions they had, Lupin preferred to take his time, focusing his attention on the witch at hand, still unused to accepting his pleasure or having the touch returned. Such a smile lit up her face. If he was a braver man, he'd take her in his arms and declare that she was the most beautiful person he ever knew. _If only I was a braver man, I'd be the sort she deserves,_ he thought to himself. _Maybe someday_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder I am not British, so forgive any misunderstandings about culture or language. I try to do my due diligence, but once again, feedback is always welcome!
> 
> A note here: This is where you may see canon divergence starting to take place. In this, Harry and the other Golden Trio members are in their 7th year. They still attend Hogwarts, but are full-fledged members of the Order. I may be a year or so off on some of their birthdays to fit with my timeline. The prison break 5th year of Death Eaters did occur, though the battle at the DoM did not.
> 
> The curse on the position of the DADA professor didn't happen. As such, Remus Lupin will be returning for his second stint as professor this year, as he did in the third year of the Golden Trio. As he was outed as a werewolf in the third year, the stigma he faces as an open werewolf at a school will be a significant plot point in this point.


	5. Chapter 5

Their conversation was polite, if stilted. As they had moved to the more quiet sitting room, several other groups of people speaking at different points in the house brought a comfortable din of chatter to the background that filled the silence in which her voice fell.

The man was nothing if not persistent. At first Sirius had been his usually boisterous self, but Lea could tell it was a smokescreen. As he had continued blustering his way through the conversation, his usual bravado of trying to be the handsome, charming man she saw beneath his exterior, the shell of the truly enigmatic boy he must've been shone through. But Lea had spent the last few years learning when something was a farce. Her life had depended on it, and this drew her further into her shell.

Almost sensing her discomfort, Sirius let out a part of him he only saved for Harry and Remus; the more quiet, sensitive portion of human that fell beneath his cracking jokes, his witty anecdotes and his charm. The soft, calm eyes of a man who had seen too much, and the small smile of a man who hoped to see more. She knew not why, but she knew Black understood suffering, and trying to rebuild from terror. Something about his eyes. She knew of him vaguely from the newspaper reports, and she had a brief rundown of what and whom to expect from Minerva before her arrival with Dumbledore at the meeting.

While very prim in appearance, Minerva was someone with whom she had developed a fast friendship, the elder witch visiting her in the hospital before she had even fully developed the ability for speech again. She credited that friendship with her eventual procurement to the Hogwarts staff. While Minerva had been sent on Dumbledore's insistence after a very frantic series of letters from her old Master to an old acquaintance, Minerva had taken up the cause of personally seeing that her recovery was taken seriously. For all of the advancements of Magic-kind, even as a Pure blood Lea was fully aware there were many ways they lacked in addition to Muggles. Particularly in regards to mental health. Their immediate dismissal of mind magic as only reparative in the short-term and the almost giving up of long-term patients, applying one-size-fits-all care was short lived and unhelpful. 

Doped up on more potions than she could name, she had almost been shoved aside and forgotten. Her body was broken, her mind scattered, but there were vestiges of drive, of intelligence, of will. Minerva saw through this and sat with her weekly, sometimes coming multiple times to see that her potion regiment was changed, her body gained weight, her care was taken seriously. It was after about a year and a half of constant physical magical therapy and six months on her own in a cramped apartment on loan from her old Master Finbok that Lea felt good enough to rejoin society, albeit with some conditions.

Minerva was reluctant to leave Lea at her own apartment to her own devices. While Lea insisted it was important to have time alone independently as part of her recovery, McGonagall still fretted over the idea of her alone for such a long stretch of time. After promising her an unparalleled level of protection and the opportunity for fantastic career growth, Minerva managed to bring both Pomfrey and the young witch on board for a training period and she hoped, longer career on staff. While Lea didn't seem happy to take over the position completely, Poppy was a proud witch and would never admit that she desperately needed the help. With the war looming closer and more 'accidents' from students daily, she was overwhelmed. So, too, was Severus, though it was Dumbledore's insistence that Lea help with potions. Minerva decided internally not to broach the subject with the stalwart man, but allow Albus' influence to bring him on board.

Her induction to the Order had been separate. It wasn't until after many personal talks deep into the night--and in one case deep into their cups--that the Louisianan expatriate had confided in Minerva about the nature of her work for the Muggle-Born Resistance Front. It was a largely American organization with some cohorts in England. The Transfiguration Professor decided inwardly not to try to focus on how Dumbledore had seemed all too eager to take the poor girl in as one of their own after hearing of her contributions to the Resistance. While Minerva was happy she would have a new home, she hoped that the woman's usefulness was not tied exclusively to her potions making and healing ability. She'd never say it, but the way in which he snatched up some wayward youths never felt right for her. Ultimately, it was the right decision, and the reasons behind it remained private for the elderly Headmaster, and McGonagall did not press.

Gripping the lukewarm mug tightly between her hands, Lea took a small sip before blowing air onto it. The mug heated up. She continued sipping her now re-warmed coffee. It burned her throat, but she relished the change. She cared less for taste as for needing the comfort of something familiar. 

"Did you just cast wandless magic?" 

The voice came over from a younger girl, a redhead. She was in her late teens, Lea surmised, but not yet old enough to have admitted to the meeting. She was the one always making moon eyes at The Boy Who Lived. She introduced herself as Ginny.

"Yes," Lea said. continuing to sip. 

The bushy-haired girl who sat with the Boy walked up now, discussing what she knew of wandless magic. Despite the others looking slightly pressed as Ms. Granger as she was called continued on her tangent, Lea enjoyed it. Knowledge was a gift, one she would never squander others for possessing. "Wandless magic is actually quite more frequent overseas." Lea began.

"They use it Ougadou and in many Native American cultures, correct?" Hermione spoke.

"Yes," Lea continued. "But don't let it be said that the Native Americans are given credit for it overseas--the first few students at Ilvermorny were from the Wampanoag tribe, if you knew that. However, their magical contributions are downplayed for their European counterparts. I was privately educated, but learned wandless magic from a young age . I can't do a great many number of fancy things, but small acts of wandless magic are fairly common in other cultures. They teach it from a young age, but rarely ever give credit to the history of the tribes or people they learned it from." Sirius next to her exchanged slightly bewildered looks with Harry and the redheaded Weasley siblings to his right. 

Hermione and Lea had started a discussion on the practices of the Choctaw tribe from where she had lived, and how much of their magic had been appropriated by but not credited by the European settlers of the region, 'colonizers' as many knew them, and how she liked to incorporate that magical traditional respectfully into her Potions practice. Sirius silently excused himself with barely a nod from the two women as they had produced a quill and paper to give book recommendations, including an offer from Lea to a very wide-eyed and talkative Hermione about how she would write home to see if any tomes on history of Native and indigenous magic and its use in the Western world could be procured for the girl.

***********

Over in the farther corner of the sitting room, as the night stole on, the boy who lived sat with his best friend and his godfather. Ron was looking between the two men, both discussing Quidditch deferentially. it was a rare feat for Ron to change the subject from his favorite, but he made an exception. "You should go and talk to her, mate."

Sirius was quieted for a moment. "I agree," Harry went on. "She is quite sweet, I spoke to her at school before. I saw her looking at you when no one was paying attention during the meeting."

"Ah, yes, Harry," Sirius said. His head bowed with a small smile. "Though I think for half of the meeting she was deciding whether or not to hex me for the transformation." The three men laughed together. "Perhaps soon. She seems rather reserved."

"I'm not sure about all that," Ron said, as the two pairs of eyes shot over to meet his a small smile curving his lips. "Look at the girls now, they hardly know when to shut up, innit? They haven't been quiet in about twenty minutes, now." A small laugh over the bookishness of the third member of their triad and their new Healer went around the table. Harry would never say it aloud, but he could see a small look of hunger and some undisclosed pain in Ron's eyes as he gazed over at the two women, his yes focusing on a certain bushy-haired prodigy as she spoke loudly of her latest literary exploits. He hoped finally, this year they would address the unspoken bond between them. Or, he hoped grimly, not hex themselves to bits in the process.

The room was broken up by McGonagall announcing that it was time for them to leave, and Molly entering the room behind her, ushering the older students up to bed.

Ron and Harry grumbled, the former protesting he was a full fledged Order member and as such should be able to go to sleep when he desired. One sharp look from his Weasley matriarch quickly shut him up. There was never any age at which a mother's word seemed to lose its sway, at least for the young man. Their brief rebellion quelled, they went over to quickly say goodbye to the few who were departing. Watching her reluctance at the simplest of hugs, many gave her waves or a handshake. She allowed a brief embrace , merely a tap on the shoulders to Hermione, something the girl noticed but was kind enough to not comment on.

After Remus, with whom she had been more familiarity as he was now a colleague, had already left, Sirius took the opportunity to go over and thank Lea for attending on his behalf. He gave her a warm, muted look, trying not to play his cards too soon. She regarded him for a quiet moment, as if taking in his face and trying to determine his sincerity. He paused for a moment, not used to this kind of frank look. Then again, he had rarely ventured outside of his ancestral home since his escape from Azkaban, so he took it in stride. She gave him a warm handshake, then held her a hand for a moment afterward, as her left hand shook briefly. Sirius was worried he had hurt her, but was polite enough not to say anything. 

If there was anything she was grateful for, it was the British' insistence on not talking about particularly awkward subjects unless absolutely necessary. She waved farewell, then went outside and took Minerva's arm for the Side-Along. The long walk back to the castle from the gate was hard on her legs, and they were shaking by the time they got back. Minerva insisted that she be able to call a coach of thestrals to come, or to grab Poppy to check on her. The young mediwitch insisted she be allowed to walk, saying that trying to get some exercise in was tantamount to her recovery, and that the shaking couldn't be helped. She insisted she'd take a fresh round of potions to help quell the post-Cruciatus tremors that had plagued her for years and would get more than adequate sleep,not having her usual rounds in the morning. Minerva bid her farewell at the entrance to the Great Hall, each going to various staircases and directions back to their suite. 

As Lea's was located near Pomfrey's by the Infirmary, that was where she first headed. Taking only a brief detour to walk into an alcove to take a swig of a potion she had stored in her bag, she shook violently for a short moment before all shaking stopped. It had gone from a high level of reaction to barely noticeable shake. She was grateful for any reprieve, even in the short term. She would never let anyone know unless forced that the tremors hurt every time, and the pain she was in. This was her penance, and she knew this. She put the mixture she made herself away, fixed her hair and started to head off to the comfortable suite by the Infirmary. 

In a dark corner, the Potions Master lurked, seeing this exchange. Late, with most people in bed and him having no immediate requirements for several hours, he knew he wouldn't get a better chance this any time in the near future . Quietly and wordlessly Disillusioning himself and quieting his footsteps, he headed off after the young Mediwitch , ready to stalk his prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As many Native Americans and indigenous people criticized JK Rowling for her ham-fisted inclusion of interpretations of indigenous Magic into her Ilvermorny history, I hoped to include/make references to it as well as its influence on Lea while doing what I feel would be an accurate interpretation of how it may be influenced. I do think that the same problems of race and appropriation would exist in the wizarding world. And that their lack of acknowledgement wouldn't defeat their existence.
> 
> I reference Choctaw both because of having a small amount of Choctaw blood, as well as them being the most common tribe in the South Eastern US, where the Beauvais family hails from. Obligatory "I am not speaking for, on behalf of, or in deference to Native voices". As I don't have enough Native blood to claim rights to their culture or territory, I hope my efforts themselves were not ham fisted, but I wanted to represent what little I do know respectfully. Ougadou is the largest Magical school, based somewhere in the mountains on the continent of Africa, and from there some of the strongest wandless magic came.


	6. Chapter 6

CW: for some stronger mentions/flashbacks to traumatic physical event and some light dubcon elements

Her private brewing space not yet signed off upon by the frightening Potions Master, she had walked to her suite with the intention of further organizing her space. While the Greenhouses were equipped with more magical fare than she had ever seen in one space, most of it was destined only for the students or for Sprout's private research. And, due to the walking distance and the fact that she hardly knew Pomona, Lea had opted to start her own in-room nursery/garden in her sitting room. 

It was a not-modest collection of clippings, plants, babies, terrariums, and randomly gifted plants from friends and family. Tending to them was both ritual as it was function. And while many were useful for a great number of potions, the US native enjoyed too much plucking, primping, and spoiling each creation. 

The hospital wing was less of an entire wing and more a section of a tower located on Hogwarts grounds off of the courtyard. The wing started on the second floor, her rooms located on the third, above the hospital rooms themselves and the matron's own personal rooms. Lea had heard that the Hospital Wing was originally on the first floor, but had been moved up sometime during the first-wizarding war so as to allow more protection from survivors and allow easier security. 

While she hated the stairs, she enjoyed the bright sunshine afforded to her. The walls matched a much less grand but still austere copy of the large, Gothic, cathedral windows of the hospital wing. It was all hand-carved, ancient stone with sweeping Gothic lines in muted champagnes, golds and faded yellows. She wondered what the original color of the stone had been--the windows went up higher than Hagrid's head, and were a smaller version of their meters-tall equivalent downstairs. While there were several different rooms available for choosing (as Lea imagined there were times where there may be more than one apprentice or healer), each room was open for grabs. She was allowed to tour several of the rooms, kept in pristine condition by house elves and stasis charms. She chose the one farthest from the courtyard stairs and the main hospital doors. it was a further walk back, and a different set of stairs, but she didn't mind the extra moment of discomfort for the privacy. As well, this featured a larger sitting room and higher windows than the others. It featured a medium-sized dining area and table that Lea had converted into her shelving for her plant nursery.

Plants hung from high up, situated with magic, and carried down all over every available surface. She kept it manageable-she didn't want her plants to suffer for her many duties--but there were at least 25 or 30 variety of both Muggle and Magic plant of varying sizes. A small kitchen table that could seat two had been transfigured near what she assumed was for taking tea, but had converted into a small impromptu coffee stand. She enjoyed the wonder of a French press, even if her pureblood cohorts didn't understand her love for and use of Muggle inventions.

The house elves insisted, much to her chagrin, they could bring her fresh coffee of their own creation, but not yet understanding house elves and the British custom, she declined. Though Pomfrey had said that house elves were the start of the legend of the 'brownie' in Eastern Muggle European folklore and loved to serve, it still reminded her too much of the Trans Atlantic Slave trade, the effects of which were still felt centuries later in her Southern home. Madam Pomfrey had remarked that this was disrespectful and infantilizing of the house elves, in no uncertain terms, and that Lea had no issues eating food prepared by the elves. While this hypocrisy might be true, she took her coffee herself. And thus the creation stayed.

The main dining and seating area was all open-ended, featuring a small sitting loveseat and a chintzy couch, all in earth tones with the occasional throw pillow of a jewel tone. It was, in a word, 'cozy'. The bedroom and en-suite bathroom were pristine, but much more unassuming. More muted colors, featured a large bath with several faucets she hadn't yet gotten to try out, a sink with vanity and a small linen closet. Her bedroom featured a four-poster she spelled to feature some brighter colors than the golds and champagnes it came with, adding darker red and green and blue hues that spread through the fabric as filigree down the sides. There were some muggle and magical photographs of her and loved ones from a much younger age featured around, as well as some of the awards and certificates she had earned as an Apprentice before her sojourn across the pond.

As there were no closets, there stood instead a large wardrobe with a small dresser next to it where she kept her modest collection of spill and burn-proof dress robes and some rarely used but relatively modern muggle clothes as well. Usually preferring dark shades in her wardrobe, this change to brighter colors had been more recent. As Poppy said, black is a color of mourning and not appropriate for an occupation in which Healing was the goal.

With new resolve, she was accompanied by an all-too confident Minerva into Madame Malkin's, where she was measured and fit both for some classic apprentice healer robes, similar to Poppy's but in a more modern and slim-fit style, with none of the hats or embellishments of a proper Madam in shades of white or cream. Disliking the drab colors of tan and beige, Lea purchased a small number of colors that would pass as acceptable as a trainee--champagnes, ambers, honey gold, and even some muted shades of maroon, royal blue, and a forest green that she felt she could get away with. 

When specializing, many Healers had specific colors they would wear to denote both their experience and specialty, but trainee Healers were allowed more freedom, and many modern healers didn't undergo the outfit at all. However, Madam Pomfrey was a proper British Madam if ever there was one, and thus the uniform stayed, and following at least some outfit was expected of any Healer below her.

Moving straight from adolescence, a too-young apprenticeship to hospital followed by her career, she less blossomed into womanhood so much as careened into it headfirst and waking up drugged out and on the other side suddenly fully grown and with all the expectations of young adulthood on her still-healing shoulders. The dress robes were spelled to repel dust, blood, and all manner of vile grime, both magical and otherwise, and they fit her modest curves in such a way to both make her feel demure, yet innocent in a way she hadn't felt in decades. The effect was pleasing.

As such, she decided that it was safe enough, tonight, to finish unpacking her bags and the few bits and baubles she had not yet hung up. She felt as she moved both into her last place and out of Mungo's that it wasn't quite ever safe enough to fully move in--to fully be a part of somewhere; how long until she was pulled away again? But she hoped with new renewed confidence that not feeling the need to live out of a bag may make her feel more secure. As she bustled off to her room, nodding in agreement with herself, she felt less secure than normal.

That may however, have had less to do with her luggage, and more to do with the two-meters-and-some-change tall man standing in the archway of her bedroom as she turned in from the sitting room. 

Squeaking more than yelling, she turned to run away before his intense gaze and voice stopped her. "Ms. Beauvais. Leaving so soon? You've hardly even offered me anything to drink. You Yanks love to forget your manners."

He had sat with one leg leaned up against the wall, casually perched as if resting for some time. he leaned off to his full height now, she doubted she would go above his shoulders if they were closer together, but for now just inspired to get away frmo him. As he continued to move closer her breathe spiked. His moved languidly, from years of long practice.

 _Not again, please, not again, I need to go, I can't go through this again. I won't live, I won't make it."_ All at once all the thoughts and images from that horrible day, when "it" happened, went through her mind, and she found herself bereft of any singular thought except for _"Run."_

In two strides he was on her, his long fingers fitting comfortably over her delicate wrists and forearms. She yelped now, as he'd grabbed her left arm, the one with the most constant effects of the Cruciatus curse still in her system, all these years later. "Please." she nearly begged, tears on her eyes about to spill over, "I'll stay, just stop." He peered down at her and saw her grey eyes looked more green when there were tears on her face. He thought with a grim, dark look, that she looked beautiful in misery. He squashed the dark thought. 

He loosened his arm half a grip and she let out an audible groan, "Why yes, I'd love to sit. Won't you show me in?" he implored, in a mockery of niceties with his velvety dark rumble. _The nerve_ she thought through chokes of pain, of him to say that when he is already _inside_.

She grabbed her arm as he let go, she rubbed her wrist and stood there for a second, eyes stitched shut, breathing in sharp, short breathes through her nose and exhaling in longer controlled bursts through her mouth. Breathing exercises for pain were recommended both by Muggle and magical doctors, she noticed, and for once, the spy seemed to be quiet enough to allow her this brief respite. While she couldn't picture anything outside of the pain and panic , Severus remarked internally that it was likely better to question somebody who wasn't crying all over themselves. He detested crying women.

She gestured broadly to the small couch. He stared at her as she held onto the table for a moment to still herself. She looked back. It was clear he was not going to be the one sitting. She sat down in the armchair, remarking bluntly how she should've chose a more firm chair as they were easier to jump out, easier to stand up as she was farther from the ground, and provided a better view of the exits. She went against her instinct. Not a moment had gone by in the last three years where she hadn't had an exit plan, and here she was lost, confused and disoriented. Boy, but did he know his stuff on how to leave someone off-kilter and lost. 

She considered briefly pulling out her wand to perform an easy healing charm to help her wrist but the look he was giving her made it clear she was in no position to pull out a wand for any reason. Her wandless magic was good for some basic tasks, but not nearly adept at healing in the way a wand or potion would be. 

"What do you want?" She said to him, boldly.

He looked amused. From this position he looked ten feet tall, his shadow leaning long against the cathedral-style windows up against the far wall. The plants behind him only seemed to add to his height, like ridiculous green and colored appendages seeping off of his black form in the low light. The sconces added to this effect, stretching his shadow towards the top of the ceiling in uneven, strange spikes.

Snape seemed to devour her with his eyes. A single finger came up and absentmindedly traced his lips before dropping back down to his side. He came closer and leered down at her. Unexpectedly, he pulled over a chair, and sat across from her. The high-backed wooden chair not only sat him up starighter, but still put him taller than her and kept up the effect from before despite his more relaxed position.

"I need you to meet my eyes." He said, every word enunciated clearly and efficaciously. 

"Please..." she started. She didn't know exactly how much he knew, or what his powers were, but she had heard of European wizards who could read minds, she wanted nothing to do with Legilimency or any other way he could get inside her head. Ever since he had entered it that night she and her fiance had tried to get away, something had been broken. Her body suffered the most damage from the curse, and while her mental health was heavily affected, she could've lived a happy life if not for his entrance into her mind. 

Something about that entrance she couldn't seem to place, sent her mind helter skelter in a way the mind healers couldn't seem to fully place or fix. The few, brief seconds in the Headmaster's office had seemed to pass for eons of misery. It felt like hot, sharp knives cutting in through her eyelids, like the diagrams she had seem in Muggle medicine books about lobotomies done by Muggle charlatans playing at surgeons.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here, Ms. Beauvais. Perhaps I could enumerate more fully about what exactly I hold in my cards here? I was under the impression you had understand after our last meeting. Now look. At. Me. " 

She looked up at his cold black eyes. Just as she placed they were shades of darkest brown, the pinch started. He was gentler than before and it was more of an intense pressure on the back of her skull like she heard happened to the ears of some Quidditch players who flew high enough for the ear pressure to change. Except hot, wet, forceful as if there was somebody holding their head between their hands and squeezing. She started shaking, willing herself to hold her eyes shut but somehow seeming unable to, such was she stuck with fear and panic.

This time he didn't pull out painfully, he slowly exited, as she felt the pain lessen and the pressure release itself to a dull throb. Her eyes had trouble staying open and she tried to hide how much pain she was in, failing spectacularly when she shot a string of curse words in both English and broken French.

She sat there as her breath slowed and they regarded each other. His eyes no longer held malice, but a deep, yearning chasm she couldn't place. She felt a violation, but now no longer could try to keep up the pretense of not knowing each other, the subtle dance they had played as colleagues the last few weeks, the furtive glances and quickening heartbeat as she tried to keep up a farce that her eating her alive. They sat. They stared. They waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n I actually tried to put in a lot of research into maps of Hogwarts to determine where the real "Hospital Wing" was located. there are inconsistencies between the books and the movies and all sources, and many seem to be fan-based. so, I did some sleuthing. movie fact: 'The Hospital Wing' in the early movies is based off of a room in "The Divinity School" in Oxford. So, I actually based my location in part off of that and the layout of the school. I hope you mind this interpretation! And also it's a beautiful location and was inspiration for the look of the suite. I hope you look it up!
> 
> And just so you know, the hospital wing was filmed on the first floor as canon in early harry potter movies, and seemed to have been moved later in later game and movie references. I had to make that plothole headcanon :p


	7. Chapter 7

CW flashback featuring graphic description of violence and assault. it is marked by asterisks. PLEASE skip if you need to.

********  
**August 19th, 1995** _As he remembered, she was there with her fiance, a Muggle-born. The Muggle-born had been a generic witch, incidental. Snape was still rising in Voldemort's ranks at that point. But was invited to this, a night of celebration._

_Dolohov, MacNair, and some of the other Inner Circle were elated. They had caught not only several promiment Muggle-borns, but some that were part of a reported front that seemed independent of the Order, but hell bent on causing as much Mayhem for death eaters and Pureblood interest alike. And joy. A Pureblood among them. Blood traitor. Sympathiser. Mudblood-fucker. These were all hurled around Snape's ears as he walked up to the latest pair._

_Voldemort was not there but knew of the raid, he considered it a 'gift' to his Inner Circle after their successful escape from prison. Normally they were instructed to remain subtle, under the radar, but this was a special night indeed. The first in a string of such kills that were the beginning of a terroristic front meant to destabilize and establish the need for protection. The effect was twofold. It cut out some of their 'competition', as it were, and also opened up insecurity from the public seeking stronger order from the Ministry, allowing them the first little cracks of confusion in which to seep in and put their own faces amongst Ministry rank. As such, the members were elated. This was a night for celebration, a small little hint back to the famed Dark Revels of the 70's and 80's and Voldemort's initial rise._

_When Snape walked over, the Pureblood was screaming for them to stop and begging to be taken instead. It seemed as if one of the Muggle-borns captured had been her life mate. Severus paid this little mind, not looking in her direction or giving deference to the still body of the other girl. He was wanted to check on _this_ one. It seemed after she was stripped and tortured with the Cruciatus, someone had looked through her belongings and found what looked like Potions recipes and Arithmantic formulas. While Dolohov was cunning, he was no book reader, and less skilled at forms of calculated magic. _

_His was a power of fighting, of war, of terror. Macnair was sufficiently frightening and deadly, but could rival Crabb and Goyle Srs. and Jrs. for his intelligence. Thus, Snape was needed. He had looked through the paper and saw some advanced level-work far behind the years of the women there, and some papers and script he recognized from a name he had spoken with. Finbok. A man credited with the creation of a potion to help prevent lycanthropy from developing after a werewolf bite. They needed to know what they had before they decided to kill the girl._

_Dolohov had started to use the Cruciatus for the better part of half an hour to get the information out of her.As was expected and loudly surmised by Severus, "And how are we supposed to get information out of her if she's drooling too much blood to speak?" He walked up, his silver mask afixed to his face with his robes swirling behind him._

_She was half dressed on the floor, hair a rusty dark brown from what he thought was color, but appeared to be the impression of blood. it seemed in addition to the mental torture, she had received some physical blows as well. He attributed this to Macnair, as Dolohov preferred a more, as he called it, 'sensual' technique of torture with his victims. He was practiced at drawing it out as long and as slowly as possible, to keep the victim alive and sane for as long as possible to gain information. It was a technique he perfected, then taught to the Lestrange brothers. Severus as always gave no hint of a shudder on his face at the thought, despite the revulsion he felt for the men at his side, no brothers of his._

_He looked down at the girl and in one dark, brief moment, thought _How easy to take her here. So small, so young, so delicate. I could take her here and she would scream and scream, and nobody would come, and think none the wiser. She is ripe for the picking."_ He forced his Occlumency shields up twice as high to drown out the dark thoughts. He had to focus, ignore those distractions, always lurking under the surface._

_He made an impression of him slapping the face of the girl to wake her up. She yelped and looked at him, eyes still almost rolling back in her head, but her mind as alert as could be possible. She looked up at him. He gently pushed a tentril of blood-dampened hair out of her eyes, and looked deep into her gray orbs. As she started to close her eyes, he forcibly pulled her head back, a sharp yowl emanating from her mouth , cracking on her dry lips. She looked up at him, as his force into her mind continued._

_As he tried to continue, he heard it from his background. "Is that dumb Mudblood-fucker bitch still asleep? We better wake her up. _Crucio_!"_

********

Severus Snape stared at the small witch before him, his mind trying to process all he had just seen. The witch sat before him. He had looked through her memories of the evening in question to see her perspective and what she remembered, what she did not, two, three, four times. As he looked at each angle he simultaneously sorted through her weeks and months leading up to the event, and the few parts not filled in by Minerva or Albus since her return. The old man kept everything on a leash, and it was a struggle to get even the most basic information he needed to keep himself and others alive. He had to resort to his own measures.

As she looked grey, her usual olive undertones looking sickly, she made to get up . She had flicked her hand and a small cane appeared from the side of the wall. A bit of wandless magic, though weak in origin, as the cane floated over slowly and almost dropped down beside her. She meant to get up and he stood up and firmly pushed her shoulders back into the cushion of the overstuffed armchair. "Sit, stupid girl," he chided her. He watched as the twitching on her left writs started to increase, then get more rabid and erratic.

After her wrist, it started first on her legs then on her arms, shaking more violently. She dropped the cane she had held and the chair started to follow suit as the tremors from the Cruciatus effects that had plagued her for so long started to shake her small frame. She was no longer close to passing out arms gripping the side of the frame of the chair, her knuckles pale white against her redenning skin. 

"Please," she choked, "I need--" she had already motioned towards the top drawer in a small side table by the couch, it was easy enough to miss. He pulled open the door wordlessly, grabbing out 3 small potion bottles and one larger one.

They were varying colors and shades, and seemed to be hand drawn with symbols he recognized as an older Runic alphabet. She nodded broadly, not specifying which one. He was able to pull off the lid and sniff them, telling by their contents and the brief memories he had of her time brewing that they were developed from bases of pain numbing, muscle relaxing, anti-seizure, and a generalized calming draught. He grabbed her throat with one hand and forced each potion down, holding her mouth closed when she didn't want to take it in or tried to spit it up. Sputtering, she fought weakly at first before allowing his large hands to coax it down her throat. He gently rubbed her throat for longer than was necessary before removing his long hands, and gently twisting the tops back onto the bottles. Moments passed, and as the potions went down her throat as she was able to breathe again.

Her eyes became heavy lidded as the drugs took effect. Her pupils were lightly dilated. This was a heavier dose than he would have assumed--seeing that she kept smaller, less potent ones on her person for daytime use.

"You know," he said, as she stared at him wearily, a look of confusion and discontent on her face, "You really could have a better brew and wouldn't need to take so many if you actually knew how to mix a proper base. You should not need three different potions for pain. " She eyed him. 

"As you well know, my apprenticeship was cut short when I went on a little...vacation." She nearly hiccuped the last word, the soporific effects of the last potion started kicking in. Her southern accent almost comical in its intensity. She was practically drunk. Is this what she took to sleep every night?

He squatted down on his long legs, sitting above her, wandlessly checking her temperature and basic information to make sure that she was not having an adverse reaction. She looked at him. A look of pain and hurt in her eyes. She was so out of it she barely noticed as he repeated his actions of her darkest memory and brushed a tendril out of your face.

When she would wake in the morning, she would remember the invasion of her mind and her room, and have the understanding she could never speak of all that he saw. But she didn't remember getting into her bed, taking off her shoes, or the glass of water conjured at her bedside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard one to write. I really had to put out a lot of pain and world building to get this chapter to work, and I still second guess it. There is a lot more to come. And yes, there will be some smut and more fluff soon, can't all be darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

**September 28th, 1997**

It was morning when she awoke. Wide windows gave berth to brightly colored shafts of light twinkling off the forest on her walls in bright colors. She woke up with a start. The height of the sun meant she was late. She swore, first at herself for losing control, and for knowing she now had to face her day with not one, but two challenges--personal and professional, one difficult, one frightening. 

As she clambered up to take a quick shower knowing Mdm. Pomfrey would not dare let an unwashed person in her charge handle patients, she spelled the quick-dry towel and robes to file in behind her as she filed into the tub and flicked her wand at the bath. She sat in the water as close to boiling as she could safely handle, thankful for once that wizards, at least, did not have to wait for their bath to get hot.  
She skipped any fixing of her hair or face, a few murmurs of a charm Poppy had taught her pulling her hair into a loose chignon. She pulled on the navy robes over the loose flowing pants and longer cardigan she wore under her robes--she had to work with chemicals today in the dungeon later, and couldn't do with robes over a flowing dress as she often got away with. The thought of working with that dark, arresting man gave her pause and a shiver up her spine. 

She thanked Merlin for the ease at least of her wardrobe. All clothes were first purchased then soaked in a potion her former Master had taught her to make at only fifteen; to save having to buy new robes every time there was an explosion, it's easier to make a burn-proof Potion stain to apply to all the linen and cotton fabrics she wore. One of his own creation. It was a necessity in the Louisiana heat to come up with unique solutions for the warmer weather while still protecting delicate flesh. The thick, warm fabrics warn by many of her cohorts in England were still too heavy for her to feel comfortable, prefering warming charms when necessary. 

She ran to a drawer in her bathroom and went to pop open her medicine stash after saying a brief incantation--this was the time in the morning she took her necessary mental and physical potions to help combat the effects she dealt with daily. As she opened it open, she was used to seeing several weeks worth of potion at one time; she always stocked up in bulk, a habit of long past. She had only one small serving of each potion she needed for the day. She felt panic set in, and nearly started hyperventilating. Her air came in shorter and shorter breaths and she grabbed the Calming Draught she especially made to last lighter in the day and slammed it down. Within seconds her breathing slowed, her eyes dilated slightly before returning to their normal size.

This was good. This was her 'normal', she could function, she could breathe. As for when her potions failed and her seizures started, she would face that as it came.

The first burst of energy in the morning was the time she felt most pain-free all day. She relished it. Lea jumped down the stairs faster than she would any other time, and ran into the Infirmary. She stopped quickly in front of a bewildered looking Poppy Pomfrey and a bemused Minerva.

"What precisely are you running like that for?" Minerva said in her clipped accent. "We can hardly expect the children not to run in the hallway if you can't even control your gait." The elderly witch said it with a smirk on her face. The children may fear her for her stern demeanor, but in the slight twitch of her lips and the crinkling of her eyes Lea felt more warmth and comfort than she had in the last 20 hours at least. The two women noticed the slight bit of tears forming at the younger witches eyes and shared a worried glance. While she tried to keep the extent of her mental and physical health needs hidden from the older Madam, absolutely nothing passed through her hospital doors without strict notice, and as such, she had developed a stern but forceful nature that Lea was too green to recognize as Pomfrey's form of strict caring.

She reassured the women pre-emptively "I'm fine, I'm just so sorry I'm running late." She gave a weak smile that did not meet her eyes.

"Ms. Beauvais, Lea, why are you here? Severus informed us you would be at the dungeons to assist in refilling our stock half an hour ago. Or are you hiding the potions in that open mouth of yours?" Pomfrey continued, in some uncharacteristic sass.

Bewildered, she shut her mouth smartly. "That's news to me, Madam Pomfrey. This is the first I'm hearing of it." It was important to keep a cool face, not let too much away, she was already teetering on thin ice, he already knew too much. If they knew half of what he did, she thought glumly, they wouldn't be having this conversation.

"Well, it's hardly to be a surprise, considering you cannae learn much if you sleep til two hours before dinner, can you , Ms. Beauvais?" Momentarily shocked the Transfiguration professor let her Caith roots show in her slipping brogue, Lea grabbed her wand tighter that was pressed into the stitch in her sleeve and made the long walk down to the dungeons.

She did her best not to slam open the door with indignation as she opened it, seething. She was still fearful of the older man, but her anger and hackles were rising. She was forced into that spot during fright or flight where the adrenal glands start to pump, rushing hot blood past your ears, and the world seems to move down to a pinpoint, vision smaller.

After a short rap on the door using side of her hands (her knuckles still sore), the door opened of its own accord. She stepped inside. He was sitting at his desk, grading papers. His hair already showing some of the days wear, hanging in thick strands that were starting to show the moisture of the days brewing and movement. He looked up as if bored, annoyed, like a fly had entered the room. "Well Ms. Beauvais. It's lovely to see you had a good lie in, perhaps now we can get to the brewing you were supposed to do? You are late."

All her anger had formed into two hot points behind her eyes, blinding her. She walked forward, stumbled, not with her in jury but with the gait of someone just Confunded. Her breath came in ragged gasps. "What...what?"she sputtered.

"That was a worthwhile contribution to our discussion. Perhaps we could try again, with the rest of the sentence?" she deftly grabbed her wand on instinct, no longer functioning with reason when he came up and snatched at her wrist. For once, he was gentle. His speed with which he stood and approached and grabbed her not felt in the gentle ministration of him holding her wrist. This, somehow, was more unnerving than if he had caused her pain or shook her. She could not understand this damnable man.

"I informed Poppy that you would be relieved of your duties this morning. We will be brewing today. The stores are...adequate, but if you insist on brewing your own potions, you can actually brew something worthwhile to stop that incessant shaking." He had since let go of her fingers as he continued, looking down on her with the slightest hint of pity and derision in his eyes. His voice as liquid and as stoic as ever . "I shan't have you destroying my most expensive ingredients because your joints decide to take a dance during preparation, or a slip of your wrist causes explosions my first years could admire.

"I took the liberty of relieving you of your stores," 

_Must...breathe...must...not...hex.._ her thoughts racing.

"Today we can brew the new, corrected versions of the bases you insisted on wasting good heat and Hogwarts money on. I started with basic instructions, but I will watch to make sure you manage not to have another conniption fit like you did last night." The way in which he referred to her seizure barely scratched the surface of the disrespect, but she was too far gone in bewilderment to properly summon the rage or retort required. For once, her instincts failed her entirely. She hardly even acknowledged or mentally encountered how close their bodies were, not realizing how the heat of him had forced the navy robes to cling closer to her damp skin.

Steeling her voice as calmly as she possibly could, the faintest waver, she looked up at him, still gawking down at her. "I didn't use Hogwarts stores. I used my own money to pay for those, my own things, that I brewed. And where are they now, _Professor_?" 

He looked bored now, as if insulted he had to dein to answer her with a response "Why, Vanished, of course." And stalked away . Leaving her to her own anger and delirium. A chair was cast somewhere to her left, and tea somewhere to the left of that. She managed to sit down before her legs buckled, and tried to drink the too-hot tea. She spit it out, not used to the rich taste of the tannins and expecting her usual brew. Blessedly not chiding her for managing to do the one thing he warned against and spill tea all over his floor, he wordlessly vanished it and gave her a full minute to breathe before stepping over. 

He sat down on the floor in front of her as she calmed down, a glass of water reappearing at her side. She drank it fully before he refilled it, as she set it down. He met her eyes, for the first time, at her same height. His long legs nearly reaching his chest as he squatted beside her. His hands resting thoughtfully on the arm of the chair. "Now, when you are ready, we can begin." He said this with a gentleness that surprised her, and felt if it were any other world, she would feel a sense of adventure, of yearning, for learning under a great Master again, one her old Master Finbok had talked about and whose works amongst hundreds he had made her read and re-read. 

He stood up quickly and did something unusual--he proffered her an arm. She clutched her wrist instinctively and, realizing her problem, he held out two hands instead. She grabbed both, and was gently lifted, the chair 'pop'ping out of existence beneath her. The combined pressure on both wrists was light enough to not hurt her bedraggled limbs. As she walked towards the wall, she noticed a sconce lighting a hallway to what she assumed was a private laboratory--his, perhaps. As the classroom light clicked off behind them and the door wordlessly locked, she felt the faint and hiss of unfamiliar wards tinged with powerful, unfamiliar and ancient magic zing shut behind her. He gestured for a seat, a stool for her she noticed seemed as if it had already been Warmed and Cushioned. In front of her on a marble table was laid out with some barest notes, a guideline more than a rule book, many ingredients some she hadn't even heard of, and a lightly roaring fire in the corner. As she had sat down, she felt the barest hint of his hand at her lower back and his breath heaving half a hitch as she brushed past him. 

This gentleness was uncommon, and an unfamiliar and strange sensation pricked at the back of her mind, like a memory long forgotten trying to worm its way out. She sat. He adjusted his feet, in the first motions of anything awkward she had seen from the man. Someone who knew him better might say it was anticipatory. She took a breath. They began.


	9. Chapter 9

cw heavy discussions of disability

**October 3, 1997**

Air. Lightness of being, words escaped. It was as if floating as a spider leaping between lilypads, the legs skating so they don't fall in, perfectly poised with precision and balance. Weightless.

From sludging through, listless, apathetic, dissociated. The change was enormous. No more pain, no more worry.

Lea floated between patients. She skated between classes. The change was apparent, the staff talked about it and the children seemed somehow kinder, easier to deal with, less annoying. The sunshine was less harsh, the plants were in brighter relief. Colors splashed against cream backdrops, little bits of rainbow in an austere world.

She resembled her flowers, for together they bloomed.

He was a shadow, a ghost, barely visible. She rarely saw him at meals, and he never sat near her anyway. He didn't request her presence that entire week, and her usual week of picking up the busy work he tried to saddle her with (which while not particularly in her job description, she had done with grim determination both out of a simmering fear and obstinacy.) The Potions Master seemed determined to act as if they'd never met. He gave more attention to Peeves.

It was Friday when Remus Lupin walked up to her, one week from the previous order meetings; which, while not intentionally planned, always seemed to fall on Saturdays. He would have visited her sooner, were it not for his time being preoccupied. After the first day of school, when Albus and Flitwick had to try to fight off the deluge of owls that barraged at once, and failed spectacularly. At least 20 different Howlers from various parents went off at once. The noise was cacophonous. Normally on the first day of classes nothing can stop the nervous chatter of all of the tables, but everyone sat stone silent.

Nothing but for his quick wit, Albus swished his long, ebony wand with fluid grace, sticking all of the howlers into a silencing and shield charm suspended above the table until they had finished exploding. Silently spelling away the ashes, he looked headfirst at the students, all of them staring up at the table but for nervous whispers and a few jeers and shouted laughter from the Slytherins. It took only one voice of "Silence." not yelled, simply spoken for all of them to quiet. He nodded at the food, and all of them went back to eating their food, whispers more muted.

Lea wasn't entirely sure what had happened, whether it was through intimidation of the over-eager owls or spell work, but all owls for the graying DADA professor were now what she assumed was privately. And she gravely suspected, combed through more thoroughly. For his sake, she hoped. Not everyone it seemed, was as thrilled as Albus about a werewolf being back on staff, even after his repeated remittances that it was a newer world, and his bravery was a necessity.

He walked to her room with the confidence of a man long since assigned to his fate. A fair air of sadness always seemed to tinge around his edges, adding a slight coloring to his flush, his aura. It wasn't necessarily something seen as felt. He was, she felt, filled with a bitter-sweet, beautiful romance. While he was simply a dearly cherished and fast growing friend, she understand the deep ache she saw reflected in the rainbow-haired witch's eyes when they sat together at meetings. 

Working mainly at the front, she saw him as he easily entered the atrium portion of the Hospital Wing. It was a horrifically slow day; and while Lea enjoyed the break from scraped knees, she did feel a residual guilt for understanding the other option would've been hurt children. Something she had learned to generally avoid if at all possible.

He waved in greeting. "Madam Beauvais!" 

"I am not a Madam, and please don't call me by that dreaded, pompous name."

"Well we can't tell Madam Pomfrey, she may take offense to the pompous remark she shares the same first name."

She laughed heartily at his dumb joke, seeing him smile. Despite his graying hair , scars, and crows feet, he looked a decade younger when he smiled. It was the eyes. Shelving that, she turned slightly more serious.

"What can I do for ya?"

Trying not to chuckle at her accent, made heavier as the day was longer, he said "Would you like to accompany me this Saturday afternoon? We could go for tea at the house. I believe a certain pup would like to see you again. " He had said it as quietly and unassuming as possible, long practiced with checking all angles for listening students or ghosts before discussing even in shuttered tones. Owls and floo were too risky, two friends and colleagues in passing would make sense. 

She considered it for a moment. What she would never say and she long since tried to train her eyes to not betray is that she was terrified of leaving familiarity, what little she had in this strange magical place, and had not had a social outing outside of Minerva since her 'accident' as she referred to it. She looked at him heavily, scanning his eyes for sincerity. He looked at her, and she appreciated that he didn't try to force a social topic, didn't try to force her to speak or grow awkward enough to interrupt her thinking. If there was anything Remus Lupin understood, it was the need to pause, to reflect, to decide.

She said it quietly, "And who is requesting me there? You, or him?" 

He looked at her with a peculiar quirk of the lips. "Both. Nothing is required but your company, and we will happily bring you back at any point."

She paused. It seemed as if a whisper, her slight drawl drawing it out more so. "I would like that."

********

It was a crisp Saturday in Mid October as she fretted over her dresses. Not one used to mornings, used to working late at night in whatever fervor Fenninculus Finbok had her, she was allowed to sleep late as long as she cleaned whatever would stain before morning. She shuffled around to a primal and most potent potion--coffee--and drank it black. Cooling it with a slight blow from her lips; no magic but for the feel of the heat on her tongue.

She chose loose-fitting robes of a deep crimson that clung to her body and yet flowed in such a way to seem almost puritan if not for the way they hugged her scant curves. She had grown since she first was sent to Mungo's. Her stomach held weight, her hips dipped in before reaching her curved thighs. She pulled the robes down over her limbs, sore and needing a stretching. 

It fell down her stomach, over the litany of scars and the two bisected lines, thick uneven and ugly scars that went across each thigh. Halfway down, as if burned with the heating wand her late Muggle-born fiance had used, citing that you didn't need magic for everything. Her warm smile came now to Lea's mind, twinkling hazel eyes, wide-smile, slight gap tooth on a lightly freckled beige face. 

_Rissa._

Her Doll. She pushed away those thoughts as useless and plunged the robes fully over her head. Pulling down the sleeves that seemed to flow around her shoulders and pulling on a black cloak and the most reasonable black shoes she could find. They were not attractive shoes by any standards; they were black, thick, square, and comfortable. She could walk for them for hours, magicked to fit her perfectly, spell away pain and adjust to fit her swollen feet throughout the day.

They cost more than a week's worth of the meager pay she received at Hogwarts for her efforts and would cost more than she could afford for a small payment on a home for the robes she bought at Madam Malkin's. Minerva had insisted that the school had a fund for such things and that she would more than make up for the cost in the free hours Pomfrey would expect her to work. While this was likely true to some degree, Lea silently said a prayer of thanks grace and thanked the woman profusely. She wondered privately how much had come from Minerva's own money, but said nothing.

She met at the front of the school at noon. It was sooner than she was expected, and she perched on a conjured bench near the front of the school, eating some pilfered sandwiches from the Great Hall and perching a tome on her knees. It was a written accounting of an oral history of the Wampanoag tribe members who came to Ilvermorny and how their magick had been used in the school. While she did eventually intend to give it to the studious Ms. Granger, she doubted even the young Ravenclaw-in-Red would begrudge her a thorough reading first. 

Halfway through reading a paragraph fro the second time, Lea realized that her hackles were raised. She turned around sharply, but saw only the door open as the young werewolf walked up and proffered an arm. "Ma'am?" She grabbed it with only one arm as he helped her stand. For the first time since coming to Hogwarts, she walked the entire length of the grounds to the entrance without needing assistance. She felt free, and tried to avoid skipping as they left. 

Once past the apparition wards, Lupin wordlessly closed the gate and did the particular fancy bit of Charms work required to ward the gate. She suspected it may be part of Flitwick's work, but assuming it was a safety hazard, had neglected to ask. Each member seemed to have a slightly different variation. As only a Junior healer, she had the ability to let herself in and out of the gate, but was encouraged to let people know where she was going, and the wards would not permit anyone else to enter behind her. Remus looked at her expectantly.

"Uh, would you pl--" she began as he interrupted.

"Would you like to ride Side-Along?" 

Relieved, Lea walked up, grabbed his proffered arm and put it around herself. "I need a bit more sturdiness, I promise you this is purely functional." He nodded appropriately. While her pain and symptoms were largely gone, her disability still existed, and therefore some adjustments would need to be made. She felt the familiar pulling and was proud of herself for not puking when she landed. In addition to her anxiety, she had not Apparated unless absolutely necessary, and had only done so on her own a handful of times in panic to regain her license after her incident.

As they knocked on the door, it open. While they hadn't managed to un-stick Mrs. Black, they had at least been able to place permanent muffling charms immediately around her portrait. So as long as you weren't yelling directly in front of it, you were very unlikely to wake her up.

She walked in to the living area off of the stairs, the impromptu sitting room as the main seating area had a bad doxies infestation they were still fighting. The few usable and sufficiently clean pieces of furniture were all gathered in here and sat mish-mashed. In the corner she saw the cool silhouette of what she suspected was a freshly washed, brushed, and shaved Sirius Black. His vintage Muggle-style brown jacket over an open-neck lightly patterned canvas shirt and slightly flared pants. She wondered if he had worn the same threads in high school. Eyeing the slim fit of his tight hips, she wouldn't be surprised. 

"Glad to see you beautiful, you're looking delectable. Come give us a kiss." 

She looked at him wide-eyed. He walked straight up to Remus Lupin and gave him an exaggerated peck on the lips, both managing to hold their laughter until she saw Lupin pull away, high red points on his cheek. He was acting more boisterous than the last time she saw him, wondering if the meetings at which he attended he was more subdued due to the people in his home or if he was putting on airs. 

"Come, sit, if you please." He added in addendum. Seeing her face. She looked at his bright, kind eyes and saw a hunger and a shallowness there she recognized. Misery. Longing. Regret. It was there for a second as he shot out of his stupor, seeing her reflection in his slightly confused blue eyes. She wondered how old he was, if like many his sting in Azkaban had aged him prematurely.

He gestured to the couch and she sat down. He sat down next to her, her heart raced with how close--though she supposed it was no closer than anybody else at the meeting. Somehow, this felt more intimate Lupin sat down on the chair across from him.

As the awkward silence descended, she was in her head. Struggling not to panic at a new experience--a social event. She used to help organize planning parties for raids , she regularly helped clean out pieces of bludger attacks and sew back together flesh, but something so small as eye contact and prolonged silence in intimate platonic settings made her choke. Sensing the tension, Remus started "What a terrible host, Sirius. You haven't even offered our guest a drink." eyeing the two of them.

"What would you like, love? We have Firewhiskey I fecked off of Mundungus--tosser owed me for the last few bottles he pilfered anyway--we also have some Muggle fair, if you're feeling feisty."

She looked at him. "I'll take whatever you have." Grateful he didn't take the opening for an innuendo, He got up to stand--"As long as it's a fresh bottle. I'd love to see what you have," she continued.

"Of course, let me get Krea--"

"No, I can watch what you have." It was said suddenly and with direct force. Him and Remus eyed each other. He wasn't cowed, this man. It took nothing away from him to ask. She breathed. "Of course, c'mon then."

They stood up and he took her to a room she hadn't seen. Sensing she wouldn't want to be left alone, Lupin followed as they walked to a cramped room. A disgruntled house elf muttered to himself as he moved from between rooms, one of his hiding nests disturbed. "Here we go." He reached a door of what she had assumed used to be a wine cellar but now had been largely pilfered. He stopped for a second, looked at her and held out his hand. She paused, and took it, as he led her gently down stairs and to the main area of the room.. He took his wand and waved at a small wall. Wine racks lined the ceiling and all the walls, impossibly large. She wondered at one point what this room looked like in its full splendor, dark and dusty from disuse. He waved his wand, and a hidden rack on the wall appeared. It revealed some ancient looking bottles that she imagined would be covered in dust if not for the very old-feeling wards and charms he seemed to wave off of them. "Any of these will do?" 

She looked at the selection of elf made wine. "That one". He picked it up. "Ah, a great vintage. 1784. I have no idea what that means, but some old bastards pickled it a few centuries ago and thus we have to celebrate with the remnants of their grapes now." she laughed . 

"How long have you been waiting to dig into this?" She asked, pointing at the vintage. "Oh, since about, what? Fourth year, Remus? " he leaned closer and whispered. "That's when I first cracked the wards." He waggled his eyebrows. 

"I'm surprised this room isn't empty then, if you had that long at it."

He turned stony. "I uh, didn't get to enjoy it much. before I had to leave." She didn't press. if there was one thing she understood, it's not pressing an uncomfortable subject. He helped her up the stairs and then led her back to the living room . He noticed her eyes didn't leave the bottle, and when he went to open it, she implored him. He handed it over wordlessly and she opened it with a flourish of her wand he felt had a few extra steps--wondering what she had done.

"If he's going to poison you, he usually uses a cheaper bottle." Lupin said . They laughed.

"Potions Masters rules; don't drink anything that you don't see opened and don't verify yourself. Ironically, Muggle women have a similar saying for dark reasons of their own." Not commenting on this last point, they poured themselves each a glass and toasted to nothing in particular but the promise of more.

***************

The conversation flowed more freely after the wine started. Before she had known it, several hours had passed. During which she told them about her hometown in Louisiana, though they promptly forgot much about that. It was hard to get much out of her about her life before here. Sirius gleaned that there was a lot he didn't know, and some Lupin had to fill him in privately. But he managed to get that she was from a small town near New Orleans--he was too embarrassed to admit he forgot which. She had no brothers or sisters, she was Pureblood from a family of supposedly famous Wand Makers back in the States.

She had fallen in love with her fiance , and lost her too young. She wanted to be a Potions Master but after what she called 'recent' events (she never mentioned the scars he saw peeking out of her robes, or the stiff way in which she held her back ) she opted instead to get a formal Mediwizardry training and focus on healing potions and supplies for the Order. He knew she had seen too much and lost a lot. And once, for an entire afternoon, he didn't have to mention or explain his time in Azkaban. Talk about the crimes he had or had not omitted, answer to the name "Peter". He was just Sirius Black again. 

Nobody would tell him but his face shown with a youth he hadn't known in years. It also had very red cheeks and slurred its speech just a little too much, this youth; but all good things come with prices. Instead they chatted about current affairs the differences between American and British wizards,and the few stories Lupin told of their childhood that Black seemed to not want him to keep quiet about.

As Lupin excused himself to the restroom , he realized it was at least a few hours past sundown. They had listened to the few Muggle records that Black possessed, spelled clean again after years of disuse. She vowed to bring him more modern rock music, the years of things he had missed in his absence. She spoke of it like a long vacation or a time overseas, not as years of his life were stolen. It gave him...hope. It was quiet. She was staring at him. 

Hot, shuttered breaths she took and he realized her lips were flushed and parted, her hair slightly disheveled, her grey eyes that had been rimmed in kohl were heavily lidded. The glass of wine tipped in her hand. He had already spelled away the bit he had spilled on himself, earlier. He took the cup from her hands and set it down. She reached over and took the moment to place her hands on top of his. Featherlight, feather soft, small. Her body had some thickness, but her wrists especially were delicate. He found his smallest finger trace upwards into her palm It stroked the side of her hand. She stilled, realizing what she had done. and went to pull her hand away, flustered and what he assumed was embarrassed. A second look would recognize what it was; fear.

He took his hands and held them up so she could see them--thick, warm, lightly calloused with clean, shortly trimmed nails. His palms were heavily lined and his knuckles had the barest impression of dark hair she could see matched on the small amount of his chest barely visible through his open shirt. He sat his thick hands on her smaller ones. Her heart fluttered. He just sat them there. Didn't move to caress, or to pull her towards him. To pull away. They simply existed there like that, the moment drawing on. The werewolf in the next room took one look at them moments before and decided to walk off, giving them some time. 

It was the closest she had been to a man...since. A grown man, not a charge for whom she felt protective and platonic. Not a colleague for whom there was always a safe professional distance, or a group. But alone. She allowed her breath to grow ragged. It was the most intimate experience she had had in years. Sirius didn't fully know her story, but understood the significance. Other than a few drunken fumblings and some muttered contraceptive curses, he hadn't felt close to anyone in some time. He managed to stifle the chance to tell her that if she hadn't come along he would be snogging Remus sometime soon. 

She inched closer, and allowed their hands to sit between their laps. it was awkward seating, as they were outstretching their hands, avoiding any chance to risk touching one another with their bodies more fully. She moved forward and he looked up. He would not move other than to breathe, like a fawn she was scared. He didn't want to betray the trust this took. He remembered shortly after his incarceration, how even months later if someone stood near or hit him in the wrong spot when going for a hug, he'd be back into fight or flight, wanting to hex. It took him ages before the screaming stopped at night, and he'd often take a drink before bed even now, years later.

She placed the softest, most barest of kisses on his cheek, on his goatee, on the corner of his mouth. He avoided everything to claim her lips, grab her. His cock twitched in his pants and he felt blood rushing to pool at his ears and cheeks, flushed hot from the alcohol. He looked up and paused, as she looked at him and gave him the smallest of nods. He leaned forward, moving one hand from their lap to gently hold the side of her face and their lips met. He gently kissed her, his soft, warm lips tasting vaguely of whiskey and of...man, brushed along hers. Soft and delicate, lower lip of hers slightly more full than the top. she tasted of cinnamon and heat, of fruit she had for breakfast and smelled of spring. His aura felt of heat, of sun, of freedom. His tongue gave the barest of flicks across her lips and she broke the connection. Staring up and trying not to hyperventilate. It was her first kiss since her assault. Somehow, he knew it was significant. But he kept it at that. His hand reached back up to gently stroke the side of her face, his hand laying still as it rested on the curve of her cheek and strong jaw. His thumb moved back and forth imperceptibly as her eyes slowly closed and her breathing slowed. She felt a small kiss on her forehead and her eyes rolled back into her head as she avoided a keening sound from the pleasure. She nearly groaned. He nearly grunted. he had a few nasty ruts, either from the one or two eligible Order members his age or from risking limited transfiguration or the few times he managed to sneak off to small enough Muggle clubs where his transfigurations and the non magical population made it harder to recognize . Even years later, Sirius Black _knew_ sex and women the way some people knew breathing. This was something new, intimate, more deep.

Her eyes opened and he knew he had to take it slow. Using all of his energy to pull away he slowly pulled his hand off of her face, pulled away from their embrace. She slowed back to the couch. He placed one finger under her chin as she was looking off into space. She looked up at him. "You okay, love? Was that alright?"

She smiled shyly. "Yes. Sir--Sirius." He avoided making whatever joke his brain was trying to form. The blood was pounding in his ears, though thankfully his cock had stopped screaming at him. He knew he would be forcing himself in hand as soon as they exited the house. Remus came up now, understanding all about timing and not giving them time to ruminate or her to overthink their intimacy. He entreated them to another half-glass to finish the wine enchanted to enhance any drunk or other effects, and agreed to walk her out. As they walked out, she noticed the tiniest hint of a hand at the small of her back as Sirius walked her out. It was a parody of her intimacy with Severus the week before and she tried to push it out of her mind.

She walked outside and they nodded their goodbyes before Remus gave Sirius a hug and a knowing look she couldn't quite understand. The drink was swimming to her head, but she felt in control enough to not regret her actions. She knew in her heart she wouldn't regret it in the morning, and it held none of the sting of broken intimacy that violation did--it was a nice, good event. The fact there was no coercion, just two people enjoying a sweet moment with no expectations that would cause her to cry in her pillow for hours later, seeking the company of a distraught Poppy at 3 in the morning for some Calming Draught and one of the few first honest moments she'd had with the woman. Not on the identity or details--just that for once she had been close to a man and no, she was not forced, she was crying like a first year because someone had touched in a way without violence or expectation. Pomfrey would go on to assure her she understood more than she could ever know, not mentioning how many dozens or hundreds of girls and even boys she had held in similar positions at their own broken mentality.

It took five minutes after her and Remus left, her gripping him tightly more than was necessary from an influx of nerves and the chill of the night as they Disapparated, for Sirius to walk into his room and yell at Kreacher to leave immediately. He barely made it up the stairs and as he crossed the thresh hold he didn't even make it to his childhood bed, transfigured to have more appropriate adult colors, before his thick cock at full mast was pulled out of his corduroy trousers. 

He leaned against the nightstand by his door, not even bothering to lock it. His left hand reached out to grab his thick cock as he pumped back and forth furiously over his girth, his eyes closed and bottom lip being bitten as his legs tensed up. Faster and faster he pulled down, not bothering to lubricate as his precum seeped from the slit on his penis, hand pumping down to his base of his shaft and his thick dark hair and up again. To swirl lazily around his frenulum and his swollen head and back down. It took quicker than he'd like to admit before his own orgasm came exploding out of him. A thick startled grunt as he barked out a short roar, growling as he came. 

Hot jets of white cum shot out of him in short bursts, and continued to leak for the full breath of a moment as his jerks of his legs and the pulsating of his cock up and down shot out the last few strings of his seed . He pumped it down his shaft until all was left and wordlessly scourgified what little was on his jeans and his floors. 

He pulled up into bed, not even bothering to fully take off his shoes or button his trousers before he passed into a deep sleep. He wasn't astute enough in his drunken orgasmic bliss to realize as a rather disgruntled house elf bustled into the room to lift him wordlessly on to the bed, remove his trousers and socks (but not his pants), his outermost shirt and set him soundlessly underneath the covers, shoes and trousers and coat stacked neatly by the bed. he conjured a glass of water and the little bit of anti-headache potion that passed as his anti-hangover cure next to him.

Grimacing at casting a more sufficient cleaning charm to prevent the further staining of the formerly spotless carpet, he thought hat sometimes, humans were really ungrateful. As always, he closed the door and warded it to keep his human safe before going back to the safety of his warm, dark abode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some (read: a lot) liberty with the design of Grimmauld Place. Suck it. (J/k please keep reading ilu).


	10. Chapter 10

Cw for mild neglect/abuse mentions 

Roman. Aquiline. Schnoz. Sniffer. Snout. Proboscis. Snoot.

Call it what you will (and he had heard nearly every name there was, and even a few invented ones there wasn't) Severus Snape had it in spades. And it wasn't for nothing--the olfactory senses of any Potions Master let alone a spy needed to be astute. Fantastic. Unfailing. Even the simplest of smells could not only be a hint that could mean life or death in a social situation, the smallest difference in the quality of the materials he mixed or the ones he dealt with on a daily basis could mean disaster for his lives or others.

As such, he rarely missed a thing. And it took him less than 0.024 seconds as the crow flies on a Muggle clock to determine that the usual flower-and-fear scent he felt coming from Hogwarts newest colleague was not her usual. He smelt it in half a second--alcohol, reeking. Sweat. The stench of other towns and travels, faint hint of magic. Secondly he smelled the rare hints of the werewolf. He delivered his potion every month and spent more time shoved against that man during meetings than he dared mention.

But the smell he noticed first amongst all was repulsive, disgusting, inane, childish, and abhorrent. He smelled his least favorite animal... _dog_. Nobody could ever consider him charitable or kind to animals or children, but this particular breed of stench was in his opinion of the most abominable. Despite the many jokes, Severus Tobias Snape was a fastidious man when it came to cleanliness. Every tool, surface, piece of linen and accoutrements had to be sufficiently scrubbed, disinfected and left bare before he allowed it into his chambers. His own scent was something of sandlewood and the remnants of whatever potion he had been working on until the harsh, manly scent of his astringent soap took its place.

But smelling that scent on his newest charge felt wrong somehow. He tried to own it up to annoyance, but the little niggling feeling proved to be something else. If he had been a more honest man, as someone who deals in lies for twenty years struggles to be, he'd read the true scent as jealousy, the aura of the day as a bright, hot green and not the fire engine red he forced it to be. After all, indignation and rage were easier to admit than jealousy. Jealousy implied covetousness, which implied need, which meant weakness, which surely meant death.

Rage, while a form of its own impotence, was easier to hold onto than envy. His rage was something he _had_ while jealousy signified something he did _not_. What he was about to have was answers. While the girl hadn't directly mentioned anything, it was fairly obvious of Severus' intent though his continued interest in her person. Perhaps not to the average onlooker, but little slipped past the Deputy Headmistress. After a brief talk from Minerva about his habit of 'stalking her about hallways' and 'frightening the poor girl half to death', he had decided to take a more subtle route for his latest inquiry. He didn't acknowledge McGonagall's insistence at calling it an 'inquisition'.

She requested to be walked all the way to her chambers, and Remus did just so. Neither noticed the faintest hint of the Disillusioned man behind them. She locked and warded her chambers, after asking him to wait by the door and make sure nobody was inside. A _Hominus Revelio_ and some other warding charms she had inquired of Flitwick left her feeling relatively safe she was alone. At this point, she had little choice. She went to do her ablutions and her nightly medicine, taking the newer, smaller bottles and the dropper from each and allowing a few drops to fall into the small shotglass she mixed to help dilute the nasty taste. While she tried her best to make the concoction palatable, she had cowtowed to the Potions Master making fun at her whining, saying that pain was certainly no more preferable than a little taste.

While she had tried to mix many different mixes that wouldn't mess with the magical base, she had discovered only certain levels of acidity would mask the taste but not damage the magical powers imbued. There were two substances that she could mix it with ; pickle juice, or lemon juice. Never both. She laughed at the idea of taking a pickle back with one of the strongest nerve medications brewed in the last half century, and used her wand to cut and squeeze a fresh lemon (always fresh) into a small thimble-sized glass. She poured the two drops from each beaker--one for pain and nerves, one for sleep and dreams--and drank quickly. She burped a small round of fire , a side effect she was still researching, and headed for her bed. Slowly slipping off her robes in leiu of some lighter sleeping bottoms and a matching top, and she slipped under the covers before flicking on the radio to play her favorite wizard rock station. She could barely sleep in the quiet. Secretly glad she had all of her responsibilties off tomorrw on Sunday, her one day of rest, she closed her eyes, ready for bed.

She _was_ ready for bed, but the black lump sitting in against the wall had other ideas. Coming to sit beside her, she felt the bed depress, but managed not to awake. She stirred slightly before falling back a. Scrsleepunching up his nose, to avoid the smell, he detected the scent beneath that was more sufficiently _her_. Something of vanilla, jasmine, whatever flower she wore about her person today. He tried not to focus on how small she was beneath the oversized comforter, or the flashbacks he felt to his dark and twisted thoughts about how easy she'd be to take here, with no around to hear her scream, and the person he had almost become that night before when he was in a similar position.

Knowing staying would be a mistake, the mix of her repulsive smell and her alluring body mixing up a fury of fear, anger, and arousal with in him and a beast he had long since tried to quell, he silently lifted himself up and stalked out to his own home in the dungeons. As he warded back up her room, he really thought it such a shame (albeit a boon for him) that such an otherwise intelligent witch couldn't bother to cast a half decent warding charm. He cracked it in ten seconds. He put it up, slightly stronger, in half the time. Despite his possession--curiosity he would call it--of the small witch, he did not want anyone else, any other _man_ if he were to be honest, to be within distance of her. Not when he could help it. Resolving to save any difficult discussions for another time and to take a more covert route to getting what he wanted, he determined to head back to his chambers and regroup.

A stiff glass of whiskey, a furious wank and a long sleepless night envisioning the ways to track her more fully and pull her into his orbit without frightening her any more. Fear was a useful tool, one he kept in his repetroire, oiled and ready and sharp with frequent use. But for him to fully claim her, to fully do as he required he needed a different tool. He briefly considered trying to strike up a friendship under the false pretense of a change fo heart, and scoffed. Severus Snape was many things, but genial was not one of them. Either way, the girl was already so distrustful of the male sex he doubted that would come easy. As he finished his overly-long shower and spelled away the rest of his unsatisfying jerk on the shower floor, he wrapped a large towel around himself and knew--dripping, not bothering to spell-dry his hair before bed--that he had a plan that could not, would not fail. He simply couldn't allow it. She knew too much, and he needed her for much more than she was prepared.

***********  
**Late 70s**

Fenninculus Finbok was a fastidious man. He was driven to ways of creativity and drive that did not make sense to many others, and demanded perfection in all that he did. He would work obsessively late into the night, taking his young pupil with him on many adventures others had deemed 'ill suited' for a woman of her age. Trusting him impicitly, his wife Glenda always gave her blessing on the days she herself could not be bothered to come. She was the brains of his operation, his heart and soul. It was she who wrote letters, packaged potions, set up beakers, colated writings, wrote to articles and local papers, and she who held his hand and gave him a coffee at night. 

For all of their ragtag and seemingly hodge podge family, the couple and their young ward were positively charming. 

It was a shame that she was a werewolf. And a shame that he was absolutely batshit crazy.

Glenda Finbok nee McGovern, ever the spokesmodel for human decency and kindness, was a Afro Latina woman from Queens who moved south to be with her husband after they met during a Potions conference. A charms graduate from Ilvermorny, she knew little about Potions and less about the south. . But after accompanying a grade school crush on his offer of a free trip to Philadelphia to meet at the convention, her eyes fell on Finbok. A short, squat, slightly overweight man of mixed Wampanoag and French Caucasian heritage. He had hair that was cropped at a weird angle, slightly mixmatched socks, his shirt was buttoned wrong, and his tie was halfway loose. 

She thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever met in her life. She stood half a foot taller than the average witch, with rich brown skin with red undertones and textured, shoulder-length hair, in brightly colored robes. He thought she was the most handsome woman he'd ever seen. She promptly left her confused but generally good natured date, and they spent that moment from each moment forward, together. 

They moved to the south, far from both of their homes. He determined he had visited there during a conference and fallen in love for the first time in his life--with the trees. The large, live oak trees covered in spanish moss that dotted this swamp land. The thick underbrush and wet, hot forest of Louisianan fame was made thicker with the magical herbs and plants Muggles couldn't quite see. In a veritable wonderland of new materials, he set up shop for six months and stayed until his death. Except for periods of traveling, he hardly ever left. They incorporated her Northern American style of magic from the city and her charms work expertise from Ilvermorny with his mix of Wampanoag indigenous and European potions , and together they thrived. Creating works unlike any other, and deeply sought after.

It wasn't until ten years into their relationship his love, his heart, his twin flame was attacked. The Rugarou was a legendary wolf-like monster, more beast than man, and they were rare, but native to the area. What they did not know is that using the guise of Rugarou, a small train of werewolves had moved there, hoping to blend into the surroundings. They were not knowingly troublesome or violent. They were kind, poor, lost people. Wolfsbane was newly invented and was exceedingly expensive. Only the most privileged of people could afford it and even then it was so difficult to make trying to get someone to do so without drawing undue attention could mean death, even for Pureblood families who just as often killed or dropped those children, saying they had been eaten by the Rugarou. In a way, it was true.

Plagued by self hatred and loathing for not being there to save his wife, he searched desperately for a cure for lycanthropy. He nearly ruined himself searching for every ingredient, scouring the world, returning only as much as possible to protect his wife and brew her a steady supply of Wolfsbane. It took ten years, and he never got any closer to a cure. What he did stumble upon in one theoretical binge was something he hoped could still make difference; a preventative. Meant to be an emergency-only solution that could heavily reduce the chances of someone catching lycanthropy after a scare, he knew that he had stumbled upon something that could change lives. 

However , the problem was testing it. Non-human animals could to become lycanthropes and he would never dare risk on a fresh patient who was exposed to that kind of trauma, lest he accidentally do more harm than good . With new resolve, he spoke to his wife. It took many days of crying, yelling, upset tears and threats to leave their decade-long and otherwise perfect marriage. After finally realizing that it was the only way, they made a decision.

He put on his cheapest but most durable clothes, kept his wand ready, packed light food for several days and an endlessly refilling water bottle his wife had charmed for him. With this, he set off to get bitten by a werewolf.

It was perilously close to the full moon rising, and he sat for hours in the thick swamp fearful for his life. Not only was the wolf-like Rugarou similar enough to a werewolf he could be mistaken and, not being able to catch anything from the Rugarou, could die. He also had a moral quandary. The person on the other end of that bite is a real living human, one not in control of their actions. Did inadvertently causing that person to attack him, risking their life and safety create more evil than the good he would put in the world? After thinking only of his wife's beautiful brown , tear-filled eyes. He decided; he had no choice. It had to be done. 

Two days later, a full 24 hours after their agreed-upon meeting time, Fenn ('Fenny') Finbok Apparated loudly and crawled onto his doorstop. After shoving the potion down his throat, his only copy stored at his house, he proceeded to vomit, diarrhea and hawking coughs of blood for 48 hours.

Afterwards, he woke up renewed. The normal magical healing potions his wife provided mixed with the basic healing charms helped him recovery beautifully. The other werewolf was not harmed, he said. He silently pledged to provide lifelong assistance to the families of anyone who ended up biting him. A service he provided even years after his death. They remained lifelong friends.

However, he had catalogued as much as he was able and needed to be able to prove his findings. 

Thus, a time and place was set up after a very heated and spirited debate by an angry Council from the town of Oublier, the small magical alcove that they occupied in the swamps near Muggle New Orleans.

After having many experts come in and verify his findings as legitimate, they tied him up magically with cloth, rope, chain and rock in an open clearing surrounded by magicked 10 foot walls with an open top. The full moon approached as sundown. They waited. After a full ten hours, and two tests the two subsequent months corroborated by experts all over the world, it was finished.

Fenninculus Finbok and his wife Glenda were credited with the invention of the Homorphus Potion. The first potion that could successfully prevent the transformation of someone into a werewolf. It was a smash hit and orders came from all over the world. Believing in the right of knowledge as a human right, Fenninculus made his research open, and encouraged cultivation of many of the necessary plants useful for its production. The only necessary ingredient in delicate supply was some part of the werewolf: hair or blood. Being one herself, Glenda more than supplied this until she decided she was tired of losing her thickly textured hair and that if she gave any more blood they'd have to give her a daily supply of blood replenishment potion . Fearing the worst and with many werewolves still afraid to come forward, there was an overwhelming tone of depression.

It wasn't until 8 months after the first approval of their potion that they saw her--a small girl, crying on the side of the road. They were walking in Oublier on one of the many hidden paths that seemed to go on forever and be so easy to get lost in. She had matted hair, bedraggled clothes, and the look of someone who hadn't eaten in too long. Up close, they saw the clothes looked formerly expensive, and if she may have been a charming, precocious child if not for the slightly dried blood around the side of her face and the snot bubble forming near her mouth. They had never wanted children, and knowing Glenda's condition, could never themselves put a woman through that condition while pregnant. 

In that moment; they looked at one another. It was an unspoken bond of many years that took only one look to know each others meanings. The communication of people who were so heavily in tune it's as if when one breathed the other felt the air rush past their own lungs. In that moment Azalea Gardenia Beavais, jilted daughter of the famed Beauvais family and current raining socialite corner of New Orleans and Oublier, became their own. She ate, lived and worked with them.

Not knowing much about how to raise a child properly and not wanting to abandon her to Ilvermorny, they taught her themselves. She learned much handy charm work, both wandless and with wand, but it was the inclusion of Potions she really took a shining to. While his greying hair was still far from covering his salt and pepper head, he knew internally that if he wanted his work to be passed on, he should teach someone. And thus at 15 she became the youngest Potions Apprentice in the southern US in a century. Though, it was said that it would be a longer, slow apprenticeship, allowing her time to grow. 

In time their young padowan blossomed, growing into a beautiful, courageous and outspoken woman, with a particular affinity for the healing arts and a passionate champion of Muggle-born rights. While they were wary of the crowd she surrounded herself with, at 16 she fell in love with a young girl from Lafayette named Marissa 'Rissa' Hargetay. They were inseparable and received the couples utmost blessing being engaged just a year later. After all; while they were older when they met, they understood true love knew no age. Provided of course, they saved the wedding for after the completion of the Apprenticeship. 

It was ultimately Rissa who so championed Azalea's success. Herself more inclined to numbers and Arithmancy, she was still a stalwart supporter of 'Her darling Lea's' passion for Potions. And it was Rissa who insisted that they apply for the grant and pool the Portkey money to go to the United Kingdom's to go to the decade's first Potions Symposium featuring Potions apprentices, Masters and potioneers from all over Europe, the Americas and other parts of the world.

In fact, it was Rissa that said Lea deserved it more than them all. After all it was she who, sensing the need for more plentiful materials, learned to use a charm to transfigure and imbue Rugarou hair; a substance more readily plentiful (Rugarou's are after all, very hairy, and shed regularly) in place of the usual werewolf. They were both magical wolves in nature, humanlike enough to count but without having to impune or endanger werewolves for their dwindling supply.

If they had halfway known Rissa's reasons for wanting to go so heavily, their lives might have not changed so.


	11. Chapter 11

Cw: Dubcon elements

**November 3, 1997**

His eyes didn't rise as she walked into the classroom. They hadn't spoken or so much as exchanged a glass since their Potion making. The Dark wizard felt unfamiliar, disconcerting feelings in his stomach when he was around her. A more honest man would call it butterflies, but Severus Snape called it "indigestion".

He had been watching her comings and goings.He knew when she left her rooms, when she exited the castle, the weekly meetings in Hogsmeade with Minerva . Nothing was out of his knowledge.

One morning in early November she entered the classroom for their usual meetings. His awareness of her goings on were already under suspicion from the staff, and he had to remain aloof. Let it lie for several weeks. He couldn't do what he needed to, otherwise. She stood there, waited expectantly for his instruction. _In those ridiculous crimson robes, looking all of a Gryffindor. Little chit. I'll have to blame Minerva's influence._ he thought.

"Nice to see you finally grace us with your presence. Tell me, I was aware of incestual relations taking place in the southern States. I was not aware you also laid with dog." He stood as he said it, moving towards her swiftly. His voice was melodius, saying it as if reciting a poem long practiced, enunciating and emphasizing just enough to quell most seventh years into fear. His fists were clenched, usual graceful white made even paler by the grim grasp. She shook slightly but didn't cower. Righted herself, met his gaze, kept her voice soft but firm.

She stared at the sallow-faced man, hook-nosed looming over her, brooding, back not ramrod straight but leaning down close to her face, she could see his large nostrils flaring and had a ridiculous thought of herself being swallowed up by them. She didn't laugh. Somehow the image wasn't funny. Remus told her an anecdote without getting specific with names about how someone had used him as a boggart. She was not surprised in the least. 

She spoke. "What do you want? Not that it's any of your business, but I didn't _fuck_ Sirius. If i had, that would have also been none of your business, considering you have expressed nothing but disgust towards me, so I don't see why what I do with my genitalia has any bearing on you. We aren't dating. We aren't even friends. " 

She had never spoken so boldly to him before. Not to anyone, anyway, since that night. He almost saw her swallowed back up into herself, the only vestige of courage she remained holding on for dear life. 

Forcefully, painfully, he gripped her shoulders on the collarbone. She swayed under his weight as he leaned close enough to her ear that she could feel his hot breath and smell the remnants of cologne or of his soap on his collar. His hair smelled...clean. She marveled at the idea. And was disgusted with herself.

"Where you go and with whom," he said forcefully, choking out each syllable and missing some of the usual sibilance of his voice, "is my jurisdiction. Currently I am the only one keeping you alive, the only one keeping you out of _prison_. If I were to stop what I am doing and leave you to your own devices, you would be dead within the week. Possibly within the day. I have far more to gain by serving you over to the Dark Lord and seeing you eaten alive. As it were, you ... _amuse me_."

At this point she would be shaking if this forceful arms weren't rooting her to the spot, his full weight somehow not collapsing her stubborn as she was. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, but she didn't sob. She was stone quiet, mouth parted , chest heaving under his crushing weight. 

"Are we.." he whispered "going to _behave_ and do as I say, or will I have to ...slip" he punctuated this by pushing her weight down so she almost fell under him before pulling her roughly back up "to a certain somebody, and see you rid of this place forever? " He stood up now, releasing her as she struggled to right herself.

"To be frank," he said as he walked away, looking at his nails casually as if it had never happened. "It would be a relief. It's getting dreadfully boring following you out of the castle when you think no one is looking."

He wasn't staring at her as he said these words, but he didn't need to. Their effect was the same. She stood there in thought. Dazed out, seemingly unaffected by--physically--but deeply mentally affected by what she had heard. Her mind was racing a thousand miles a minute. As she felt her head swim and her heart beat in her ears, she hardly felt his arm as he soundlessly led her to a room behind a door he tapped with his wand on a bookshelf and it opened. She moved robotically. If she weren't so dazed, she would have thought the transition odd, moving from such vitriol to being led like a sleep child to a different room by a man of whom you were afraid.

She was sat upon a dark, austere chair in a simple but decadent bedroom she assumed were his chambers. He pulled out a small, blue bottle from a side-drawer and handed it to her. She looked up at him, confused. His face and features were soft, the long, delicate hands handing her the potion relaxed, but his eyes were black molten steel looking down into her core. She knew he didn't need Legilimency to see through her.

Taking the proffered drink, she downed it. It tasted vaguely like those fruity little Muggle drinks Rissa would bring her that came in a pouch with a straw. It was gone in a moment. Suddenly, her head cleared, and a pleasant humming noise rushed past her ears til she felt more calm. She was still slightly out of it, being reminded of what Finbok had taught her of _Benzodiazapene_ as she learned Muggle chemistry alongside magical theory. It was not the usual stupor of a calming draught, but almost brought her outside of herself.

"Yours?" She said, looking down at the empty goblet. He didn't reply. Being her, popcorn popped. His eyes switched to the wall behind her, then back again. She blinked dumbly.

He gently took the bottle back, his hand resting on hers slightly longer than necessary. As his other hand came to lightly rest on her shoulders, he set down the bottle handed her a separate glass of water of which she drank greedily. Had the pleasant buzzing and the popcorn not have happened, she may have been conscious of drinking so sloppily. It took several seconds before she was woozy, and said without thinking, "I'm going to sleep now, aren't I?" 

She looked up and saw a rare, heart-breaking sadness in his eyes she couldn't place. it was the light, she vaguely decided. The warm sconce behind her illuminating his face. She could see the darker flecks of brown and where they separated from his black irises. The settee she was seated on transformed into a day bed with some spell she barely heard, and a nearby cup and spoon being transfigured into a pillow and blanket. She felt her shoes being removed. She wanted to tell him his Transfiguration work could rival Minerva's.

"I will figure you out." she said instead, a second from sleep.

Just as sleep came to claim her, so too did he. He lowered his face to hers, his breath sticky and hot.. He took the sides of her face, making eye contact to make sure she was awake. For the second time in as many weeks, she was kissed. It didn't start as the bruising, crushing kiss it ended with. It started too like the other. Exploratory, soft, hot. His hands grabbed her head and one long finger stroked the side of her hair across from her face as his tongue parted her lips, gaining entrance.

His tongue explored every cavity of her mouth, seeming to choke her with it. It was not a friendly kiss. She could hardly breathe, it became more insistent as his body started to push into hers. She felt almost the full length of his body against her, and short as she was, felt the hardness of his manhood against her leg as he laid there. All at once, he let the kiss go.His eyes looked bewildered before they closed off again. She closed her eyes as he laid there, staring intently. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep. When she woke up, he was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

cw: slow burn smut , more of same

**November 23, 1997**

In late November the temperature dropped even more. Lea hated it. Raised in hot, warm summer and sticky cool winters she never thought she'd get used to the cold. She charmed all of her shoes more hot, reinforced her clothes with a fresh mixture of heat-infusant Potion to help warm up on body contact and cast Warming charms about every fifteen minutes until Severus had to show her one that lasted longer. Chiding her ignorance, he cast it over her and she felt it from the top of the hair to the tips of her toes. 

They worked together more often. She, completing the potions they needed in the infirmary. Him, working on grading school work, the more difficult potions, and the rest of the work he wouldn't manage to pawn off on her with annoyed detachment. 

The first years had mostly learned how not to explode themselves by this point and save for the occasional accident, she used more and more of her time in her garden or in brewing. A good portion of what she learned under Fenn was creating potions by hand. Constantly varying his recipes, pulling from Wampanoag traits of using plants from the earth. As well as more traditional European and American Potions.

If she messed up a potion, he would be very kind, but make her brew it again and again until it was right, or she made something unique that was better. By the time she was 15 she could brew Wiggenweld by memory and mix her own cosmetic potions she sold for a profit to those in Oublier. 

She even managed to feck off to New Orleans a few times in her youth and sold potions _just_ nice enough to pass as Muggle hair products home-made. She sold them to the tourists at 5 times the price. Glenda debated whooping her, but couldn't raise a hand. She had to council Fenn and, together, they decided that it was in essence funny, but highly illegal and could destroy the business they had built, and the lives they wanted to save. They didn't have to punish her severely, Lea felt guilty enough she didn't so much as jaywalk across the street for a month, at least. 

These days, her anxiety had driven her up the wall, and despite Minerva and Poppy's concerns, she just said it was stress from the war. She wasn't technically lying, and they nodded in worry but understood. At one point, Minerva made an offhand comment during one of their weekly trips to Hogsmeade that she appreciated that Lea had Severus to look out for her. Lea didn't even stifle to hold the guffaw that shot from her chest. Minerva looked her dead in the eye, Scottish brogue especialy pronounced like it was when she was dead serious.

"Child, young woman, look at me. He is a gruff, difficult man, and I do not pretend to know his inclinations. But I have known him sent he went up to my hip. He has a difficult job, and I cannae tell you all Dumbledore knows. But I consider Severus a dear friend, and I would trust him with my life, though he would say anything to the contrary."

She looked away and was quiet the rest of the trip. She had skived off early after that citing hip pain she hadn't felt in some time, and Minerva, always gracious, helped walked her back and summoned the thestrals to help guide her back up. One thing that Lea loved about the British was they didn't insist on talking about uncomfortable subjects. 

This morning she and the Potions master had a long day of brewing. Compared to Finbok, the Potions Master was more strict by far. He demanded perfection and would cajole, reward, ridicule and pull her back and forth on backhanded compliments, veiled threats, and subtle negs. She despised him, and some other thrum of energy she couldn't identify. If she was a more honest woman, she would have said it was lust. Instead, she assumed it was allergies. 

It wasn't until one day early brewing on a Sunday, her rare one not off, that he asked her any personal questions about any work she had done. It could have been an innocuous conversation between two esteemed colleagues if he had said something like, "Why did you decide to pursue Mediwizardry?" 

But Severus Snape was not a normal person, nor an esteemed colleague. And what he said was, "Did you decide to become a nursemaid before or after you failed to complete a basic Apprenticeship?" She paused decanting the bubotuber pus and paused to look up at him. She gently set down her tools and took a deep sigh. if it weren't for the pus covering her gloved hands,s he would've put her head in her hands.

"Failure is relative, Professor. Did I fail to complete my apprenticeship? Absolutely. Did I succeed at not fucking dying a horrific death? Presumably. I'd say it came up spades in the end." Thus their diatribe continued . It was like if he decided that she had been alone or at peace or looked just a little _too_ relaxed during their days together, he had to remind her who he was, and exactly who she was to him.

This was the day that their bitter peace took a turn. Saying nothing, he walked up behind her. he slithered beside her where she stood against the wooden table, leaning in to check her cauldron. He reached as if grabbing something of ingredients on the opposite table. He came up and pressed the full length of his body against her from behind as he passed by her, holding her there. She dropped her tools, took off her gloves, and put her shaking head into her hands, struggling to breathe.

"It's a wonder you managed to even make it through grade school with that level of aptitude. A level of touch has you in fits. Don't let anyone breathe on you too closely. You might start...crying." he said this last work as he stroked a tear that had fallen down her cheek. She pushed him off hard, but he held her shoulders and forced her closer. Then pushed her against the table, so she was stuck with his full length of his body against her back, rigid. She tried not to scream, trying to scrabble for her wand. In a flash her arms were behind her back and he had swung her around to face him. he held both of her wrists in one hand in the small of her back and forcefully grabbed her chin with the other. Behind him on the wall, a glass broke. She struggled to shake herself loose and would be sobbing if she wasn't in fight or flight mode. Her blood rushed past her ears. She felt him stare at her, raw, ragged. 

She forced her eyes shut, as if willing him away. He pulled her closer, speaking louder, hot breath against her face. "Do you think that will help? You are weak as a titmouse. You are helpless here, do you understand?"

She vaguely recognized screaming. She vaguely recognized it as her own. Something in her snapped. The screams to have died out of its own accord, sometime after he dropped her suddenly. She vaguely looked over and realized his robes were singed , likely from some potion she didn't remember spilling. She had been dealing with bubotuber, there was nothing that could spill. That was funny. She vaguely brushed off something that had hit her in the side of the face and felt a brief pain when she went to rub it off. Blood. Her hand came back with blood. 

She heard a high pitched ringing in her ears. She recognized he was shaking her, and the ringing started to stop. She felt a smack across her face, and a larger splash of what felt like glass. It was windier than before, and her voice was strained. She remembered asking Snape what was wrong. His voice was more quiet, more drowned out than normal. All at once he did something uncharacteristic, he shoved her into his chest. She still felt the wind rushing as she felt her legs being lifted and herself collapsing onto a rock-hard chest. She smelled nothing but sandalwood, what smelled suspiciously like Muggle aftershave and heat. He was scorching. She felt she might burn herself wit the wave coming off of him.

The sound of a door shutting. She looked at him and saw his eyes wide with terror. His hair disheveled, his robes askew. He had what looked like superficial cuts and layers of blood on the side of his face. He sat down on what felt like something soft and she looked up at him, his arms still tight around her as their chests breathed. He felt solid. She saw the lines on his face in sharp relief. Uncharacteristic of her, she repeated an action he had done on her twice earlier, both to her ignorance. She raised her small hand and pushed a strand of his hair out of his face. Their eyes met. They sat in that moment silent but for their breathing. 

Like an awkward romance novel when the heroine first gets swayed by the swarthy sailor, she first noticed how close their bodies were, how intimate this pose. She looked at him confused, an unspoken question. He flitted over her mind--light enough not to enter, just to glimpse a taste. He saw that question reflected. He bent down to claim her lips. This was unlike his other kiss--not bruising, claiming. It was calming, soothing.

This was a warm fire, a cozy book, the safe house in the storm, the first breath after a run. This was familiar. This was...comfortable. For some reason this resonated with her. He kissed her gently. She moaned audibly. She felt him moan light, a whisper as his lips parted. She felt him gently set her down on the bed and lower himself, propping himself up on his elbows above her. As he tried to pull away, she grabbed the front labels of his robes, fisting the thick material.

"Please don't pull away." He looked at her to sense sincerity, a thin veneer of disgust on his face. "Please." She said one more time.

He leaned close and growling he shoved one fist in her hair behind her and pulled her head back so her mouth held open. Held himself up with the other arm. Snape shoved his tongue in her mouth, and licked the back rim of her teeth. 

She moaned in response. He pulled away again just took deep in her eyes. "I am just a man. You do not understand what you are asking. You are not ready for what I have to give , or what I will take from you." It was raw, powerful. His voice almost broke.

She looked at him, "The good part about being someone who has lost everything is I have almost nothing left to take." 

He stood up in that moment and pushed her away from him. She thought he was leaving until she saw him open the door and mutter soundlessly. It sounded almost like singing under his breath as she saw him wave his wand and saw things on the other side of the door right themselves. _When did all that fall?_

He stepped back in and she saw him regard her for one silent second before flicking one hand, the fire on. The other, the door locked. He started unbuttoning his waist coat. She started to rise. " STOP", he yelled, quelling her. "Stay still, you foolish girl, or I will hex you. " He raised his wand and pointed it straight at her temple. A few meters away towards the door, he still stood impressive. She sank back down. and breathed. 

He stood closer. "Close your eyes". He said expectantly.  
"Wha--"  
"Close." He stood closer, "Your," He was by the bed, "eyes," His hand gently touched the side of her face, brushed away the tendrils caked with her blood, and closed her eyes. 

She felt his breath still next to her. A moment later she felt the door closed. All at once she realized how incredibly tired she was. She didn't know how much time passed in this limbo of endless wait on this impossibly soft bed until she felt the bed jostle. She started, opening her eyes.

His hair was more put together, his coat removed showing only his crisp white shirt, slightly unbuttoned, and his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up. Both his cloak and outer robes were removed. The blood was cleansed from his face and his clothes looked cleaner. A small cut she had seen was already knitting itself into a fine, pink line. He gestured her to sit up. She stared. 

"Come, before you hurt yourself further and soil my bed." She looked down and finally saw the blood and cuts on herself and her soiled clothing. He wore a sardonic, tired expression. For once, she had nothing to say. He helped her up, her bones felt weary-tired, as if she had ran a mile. He brought his wand up and she breathed in sharply before forcing herself to not react. He pulled it up to her skin, smoothing her plastered hair from her forehead, pulling herself closer to him. 

He waved his wand touching it lightly to different parts of her exposed skin. She felt a cooling sensation as she looked down and saw her skin cleaning itself, small fine scratches all over her skin removing themselves. He pulled her up and slowly helped her peel off her outer robes. She looked at him wide-eyed as he removed some paste and held it up. She saw there was some skin uncovered, but he made no effort to force her to undress. He pulled out two vials. One was a lighter blue of the one she recognized from the night she slept in his anteroom and awoke to him gone, with a house elf ready to take her back to her quarters the next day.

He took another tube of a thick, viscous paste with no discernible smell he proffered onto several white fingers. He slicked the warm liquid over the deeper spots that his wand could not knit. She felt her skin piece back together and itching, burning she didn't realize she had being relieved. She looked up. She was tired now. He helped lift her gently and lift her robes up over her head. She tried to hide herself. He allowed her to move the robes in such a way to hide her modesty, only showing what she was comfortable with.

Out of nowhere he seemed to spell or grab an outfit for her. It was simple-- a large, cotton t shirt and what looked suspiciously liked men Muggle boxers. _Snape owns Muggle clothing_ She thought dimly.

She looked over at the blue potion he held it in his hands, but something told her to shy away. She looked wide eyed. He looked at it, looked at her, and stared for a moment before setting it back. He reached down and pulled out another bottle. A darker, viscous one than before. He held it out took off the top. She sniffed it; it smelled much like the one they mixed together, but with something morel It smelled of strawberries.

He tipped it down her throat. it tasted like juice. It was the same mixture they had brewed together. But darker, deeper. And it tasted of finest wine. He leaned down and kissed her lips. She wondered, What Severus Snape will I get tomorrow? 

As he turned behind her she felt his pants hit the floor and his white shirt floated over to the opposite wall to fold itself up on top of a chair. She felt him turn her body towards the edge as he curled up behind her and she felt his long arm snake around her to pull his stiff body against hers. She felt the faintest of chest hair on soft skin and warm, tough callouses pull her close. His arm was thickly muscled , wiry, light enough to see all of the veins underneath. Her skin, while pale, was a different undertone, and you could not see the spiderwebbing trails of his. And the scars all over. He hid his left hand that was under her arm underneath the pillow.

She couldn't see his Mark but she could care less. As he dug his face into her hair and held her possessively. She felt the his nose dig into her hair as she felt him smell her deeply and a light growl escape. His arms held her back to his chest, but he separated their hips with his legs, holding her forward. 

Going on a hunch and with a thrill she didn't know as her heart raced lightly past her ears. She pushed her ass back as far as it could reach and before he could grab her body and still her again, she felt what she thought she had; the full length of his erect penis, irrepressibly solid and weeping. She heard him hiss as she went to touch it. She relaxed as he pushed her away. He held her hips in place with one hand while the other grabbed her, holding her firmly in the mattress. He held her at the biceps, so that her forearms were slightly free.

"Please..." she said, "I am lost, I have no idea what's going on. Nobody tells me anything and I have nothing and no one else." 

He stopped and she heard what sounded like a strangled curse at the back of his throat. "You do not want to go down this road, my pet". He purred the words so heavy in her ear they weight down like cinder blocks tied to her feet, ready to drown her as she threw herself carelessly careening off the edge.

"I won't for...I can't force you. Please can I face you?"

A moments consideration, as he slowly turned her around.He kept distance between their hips. The blankets pulled up.. she curled her legs closer, hers intertwining loosely with his. She snuggled her head into his warm chest, lightly haired with a black patch that trailed laziy down his firm stomach before getting heavier near the bottom. She tentatively lifted a finger out and felt his chest. Thick, wiry, ribs showing in spots, and pockmarked with more scars of every size, color and magical patterns of damage she didn't even redcognize and doubt there were even names for. . 

He claimed her lips again hungrily by pulling her head up. She pushed herself into him, his hands still holding her hip. To still her he threw a leg over her, holding her in place like iron. The hand trailing lazily down his chest and further down his patch of black hair rested on his pants. She felt lower and felt the wet spot of his weeping cock, now half mast. She rubbed her hand lightly and oh-so-delicately over his boxers. She felt him curse into her lips _"Merlin"_.

"Go to sleep", he said, into her lips. "you do not want to go down this route. I will claim every part of you, I will destroy any part of you that is left and there I will be no part of you I do not own."

She stopped and looked at him. "I want to feel something. There is nothing left inside me anymore."

He looked at her and for a moment she saw all the murderous rage in his eyes. She more than felt than saw a crackle of black magic swirling in those depths. She saw all at once just a hint of the frightening, imposing, terrifying Dark wizard whose arms she lay in. For once in the last three years, she felt unafraid. She closed her eyes, stopped trying to fight him and fell deeper into her arms.

Somehow this spurred him on further than her earlier ministrations of his member had. He grunted and pulled her closer to him, his cock still resting against her hip while his thigh possessively weighed her down. He wrapped her deeper into his arms, his face buried in her hair. He would tilt her lips up to capture them. 

Filling her completely with his tongue, her small delicate lips being dwarfed, this time he wolved on her lazily, hungrily, savoring each small delight of her lips. She fell asleep somewhere in between those kisses and his breaths. When she woke up, for once he wasn't gone. 

She realized he was wide awake, but she was held in his persistent, insistent grip. He growled if she so much as moved. It was early dawn still, so she closed her eyes again. And together like that, they just laid .

For once, she left he overthinking for the morning. That was a problem for tomorrow Lea.


	13. Chapter 13

**November 29, 1997,**

It was far too early to visit someone, surely. Not at all a reasonable hour for a social call; even the early-risers were still hours off from stretching their arms and getting out of bed. For Lea, who had not yet gone to sleep, it was perhaps, far too late to be out. 

She didn't care. Still on shaky-legs, Lea steeled herself or the familiar-press. She learned on a tip from Pomona of all people that trying to squeeze your core muscles--similar to how some ballet dancers and aerialists prepared, she thought internally--that Apparition was easier. It didn't make the nausea any less potent, though.

Preparing herself for the Spanish Inquisition, she raised her cane and knocked on the door with it three times in quick succession. In it, the door banged open quickly, showing nobody at first. From behind it she heard a voice emanate, shaky from disuse or hoarse from tiredness, she knew not which. "Who is this and what are you doing here?" 

The shadow materialized further until she saw the curl of his hair in the dark moonlight and the light reflected behind him. "Lea? What are you doing h---are you okay?" His wand hand lowered slightly as he walked forward. His shoes were off, his black lounge pants worn low on his hips, frayed slightly at the ends. He wore graying open-necked cotton button-up she suspected had been repurposed as a pajama-top . It was halfway unbuttoned, showing most of his chest and askew in such a way you could see the tattoos peaking down onto his flat stomach, showing the lines of some of his ribs.

Based on his expression for her, she must look a site. He pointed the wand at her, nearly forgetting himself. For many Order members, they could enter freely as they had been keyed into the wards 24/7, day or night. For some members, or those who came outside of protocol or scheduled hours, there had to be some level of protection. He steeled himself with a fierceness that didn't meet his concerned eyes, and pointed the wand more fully at her. She set down her things gently not losing his gaze and raised her arms to him , palms up. 

"What was the first thing I did that made you smack me?" trying not to smile

"You--Oh! You...you...you smelled my crotch. Padfoot, please don't make me say this kind of stuff. You could've picked any other memory." He giggled slightly, wondering if he had gone too far with his joke. Lowering his wand.

"Well, it had to be something nobody else would know, and I doubt you've told many people tha--, oh, gods you you must be freezing doll, please come in." 

He put his wand away as she bent down to pick up her cane and the small bags she had with her. He leaned down to grab the bags and offer her a hand as she clambered up the stairs. He had not yet seen her with her cane, but she had mentioned using some mobility aids in passing . She wore what looked like creme-colored satin pajama bottoms and top with comfortable shoes and a simple black robe. Her hair was unadorned and pulled up into a messy bun she had not bothered to brush, her eyes looked bloodshot and she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, adding lines to her gaunt face. Sirius recognized it too well. 

He placed his hand very gently on her lower back as he warded the door back up after spelling it shut with his other. They walked quietly towards the sitting room. Sirius helped her to sit as he shut the door and put some warmth in the fire. _Was he sitting here in the cold?_ she wondered mutely.

Lea noticed a mostly-empty bottle of Firewhiskey with an unopened compatriot sitting unused beneath it on the table, as well as what looked like a heavily-laden ashtray, having never seen anyone smoke inside, and a lone candle. 

She looked up at him and frankly said "looks like we're both having a day." He sat down next to her , wondering how to fill the silence. "Here, you must be freezing." Sirius reached over and grabbed an unused blanket sitting on the edge of the couch and pulled it over herself. 

"Thanks, Dad," Lea said, smiling lightly. Sirius grimaced, trying to avoid that comparison. He had been friend-zoned, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the "Dad"-zone, yet. Sensing his discomfort, she saved it, "Okay, that was a super awkward joke. Forgive me, I've been dealing with....a lot at work." 

"Enough that you felt the need to rush off in the middle of a night to a relative strangers house, dressed in your sleep trousers?" He gave her an honest appraisal, eyes showing a hint of what she wondered was confusion, hurt, or possibly, excitement. He was a hard nut to crack.

Lea patted the seat beside her. Eyeing her warily with his soft grey eyes, Sirius took his careworn body and sat down by her. She noticed him lean back and the way his thin frame was highlighted by the fresh glow of the fire. The usual cut of his vintage clothes only made him seem trim, fit for his age, though certainly the years had taken a toll on him. In this light , the gaunt circles under his eyes, the bones that seemed to jut through his clothing, the scars and haunted eyes looked out at her. And a faint hint of promise, or possibly of lust. She wasn't sure.

Lea met his eyes, "Harry and Remus have been saying you asked to see me again. I have asked multiple times to floo or Owl you, but they say it's not safe. I hope I'm not bugging you, I haven't been eh...allow--...I've been encouraged to stay at the castle and I'm not, strictly speaking, supposed to be here. But I needed to get away and I couldn't think of anywhere else to go I felt safe. I'm sorry if I'm imposing."

While she wasn't the smallest figure, her height combined with her large grey eyes under the blanket and the firelight cast on her made her look smaller, more fragile than normal. Sirius turned away for a second. She had acknowledged what he had been wondering--she had kissed him, made him randy as a right school boy, shown incredible tenderness and then disappeared without a word for more than a month.

While disappearances for lengths of time weren't uncommon in the Order, their experience had flustered him. He would not say it, but he had more in his cups than usual as she had been gone. Even Remus had marked on his eyes looking more sunken than usual and the few times Molly had been over, she had forced a plate of whatever meal she had made over and brought over leftovers he did not entirely believe were "just because she was used to cooking for a larger household". His weight had started to dip and he had fallen into old habits. At that moment his self hatred started to brew up inside him, rage, followed by an urge to drink. He paused his misery taken up when he noticed the soft breathing of the person beside him.

Glancing back over, he saw impossibly wide, long-lashed eyes looking back at him. Lips slightly parted, she looked the cherubic face of the same woman he had kissed before, whose face had been in his thoughts more than normal. _What a simpering fool I am, of course she only came here as a last resort._

"I...I didn't mean to come here and make it sound like you were the last ditch effort. I don't want to lie to you. My life is a goddamn mess right now and I had to directly sneak here to be allowed, or I would've been here allowed sooner. Not that uh, not that like, I'm trying to make it sound as if you needed me here or missed me or anything, I...I'm sorry is this dumb? Should I go?" Lea noticed herself rambling , constantly overthinking. 

The Animagus looked over and saw her start to withdraw into herself again. Not having many forays to see her outside of their brief Order meetings looking at him with such raw emotion, he felt an unnameable and strange urge to want to bring back out that spark and fiercely protect it. As he had the night they shared the most intimate kiss he'd had in a decade or more. 

He quickly put over and put a hand on her leg, gauging her face for a negative reaction. When she wasn't quelled, and kept looking at him intently he said, "Please, stay, I was just thinking about you the other day--all above board, of course. Order approved business and all that," then both smiling at his obvious poor, and very transparent attempt at a save. His hand remained on her knee. 

"So, shall we sit here commiserating about what emo 'tossers' we are or should we put on a record or something?" Her lopsided smile cutting the silence. He relaxed into the couch easier, the usual ease coming back into his face, his handsome features smiling despite himself. While sitting in a pool of his own vomit and attempting to make it to the toilet instead of the sink for his nightly piss was closer to the mark for his evening (before his nap had slept off most of his Firewhiskey, of course) he was more than happy at the turn of events it took. 

"Should I have Kreacher put on some tea then, love?" , he said, As he gestured to the kitchen. 

"Only if you aren't buggin' him, of course, I know he's asleep and it's la--"

"Nonsense, it's his job." She grimaced at his use of the word "job". A very disgruntled house elf appeared in the sitting room, bowing lowly, ears scraping the floor. "What can I get Master and Miss?" he said, the rasp in his voice from sleep evident.

"Perhaps some tea--or--coffee? Yes," seeing her nod," And please, any biscuits you have lying about. And uh, extra cups".

As the house elf nodded with a grunt then disappeared, Sirius thanked himself inwardly for no further awkward interactions outside of whatever disaster he would manage to create of course. 

Within half an hour the tea and coffee, had arrived; black as she preferred, with some light sugar and cream, as he did. Some Firewhiskey had been refused and then drank, and a large collection of records had been pulled out of an otherwise-normal sized bag. Deciding that there was no better time to take the man up on his offer of education about missing records, she pulled out her collection.

"I know you mentioned liking some bands I had heard of that were Muggle; the Sex Pistols, The Ramones, Pink Floyd, Johnny Cash. But there are so many more--my father, uh the person who raised me, not my father f--It was complicated." As she looked exasperated he waved it away. "please continue," he said.

Grateful she said, "My father who raised me was a Half blood and he has a wonderful collection of music. I also have some others from my Muggle-born friends. We would attend a goth night at a local Muggle club up in the states in New Orleans. I grew up on this music, and thought you might enjoy what you missed during your time in prison."

If only you knew. the Firewhiskey in his veins thought for him, eyeing the gentle cut of the satin pajamas from above her waist. Though they covered her chest, a good portion of her arm and she was otherwise covered by the blanket, something about her soft, olive, lightly freckled skin appealed to him and was more alluring than the idea of sitting in front of him naked, spread-eagled.

 _Well, maybe not MORE alluring, let's not get drastic here, Padfoot_

"--And I've got Souixsie, Sisters of Mercy, Morrison--though he was a git, I think ya'll would say--" she looked over, noticing his look focusing lower than before. "Yes", she continued, "I've rather heard they're quite nice, but I really was just referring to the records when I said 'playing around'." He looked up at her wide-eyed, realizing he had been staring at her breasts through the material of her thin blouse.

 _You can clearly see her nipples busting through that top, I wonder if she's wearing knickers, either, ope, she's looking, fuck,_. 

He smiled half-apologetically. "It gets lonely out here for an old man. Please don't think I'm expecting anything."

"I'm not,"....

"Hey, listen," He said, frankly, trying to turn the subject to a more positive neergy. "I'm not saying this to get a leg over, the record player really _is_ in my room, but it's far more comfortable. I can sit on a char by the bed, I'm really not try--" 

"its okay, Sirius." she looked at him openly, her delicate hand laid on his forearm. _Merlin_.

"I will need some help up the stairs, but I'd love to. Just uh...be understanding. If I get freaked out, it's not you. It's never you." He nodded, smiling dumbly, and walked a little too quickly towards his room before noticing it was taking her longer than normal to get out of the room. Ambling back to her, he gave an apologetic nod and helped her get her things and spell any of the things they had intended to bring with them upstairs. He double checked the wards for the night and put out the fire and candles with his wand.

As they made the way up the landing, finally reaching his room as he held open the door, she said , "You handle your wand well for someone who went out it with so long. I see some Aurors at the Ministry who still move theirs as if they're a firstie discovering the power of masturbation." He let out a guffaw and thanked her for her hamfisted, albeit charming compliment. He helped her clamber onto his tall four-corner, trying not to notice how much of her soft ass he had to essentially grab to hoist her up. 

"Well, that's one benefit of my being short for you I suppose." she said. _Is she reading my mind?_

They put the records on, letting the thumping music carry them and their inhibitions further into the night. After letting the Firewhiskey go down , she declined a second glass as he went to refill his third.

The quiet rolled past them as she laid back. This was not an awkward silence. It was companionable, intimate even. He enjoyed the music, the soft, discordant tones of _Lucretia, my Reflection_ by Sisters of Mercy went past. Her eyes were closed, but she was still awake, her hair splayed behind her haphazardly. It had gotten long this year and went well down to mid back, taking up a portion of the bed as it spiraled around her and underneath her, tickling him where it touched him on the bed. once again she was covered up to the shoulders, one arm loosely laid behind her, the other on her chest. The bed shook slightly with her foot tapping in time to the music. He leaned down to her and gave her a slight cough so as not to scare her.

Her eyes opened slightly, a small smile as she looked at him and turned to face him, their bodies inadvertently turning to face one another

Her heavily-lidded eyes met his. Blue met grey. He smiled as well, a deeper meaning. "I want so desperately to kiss you and ravish you, but I would never want to hurt you." His words struck the air, leaving his mouth before he was certain he was going to say it or not. His voice didn't break, she met his eyes and he saw a wave of desire and then another emotion--revulsion? guilt? Hit her frame. Her eyes turned away from him slightly. He felt himself withdraw.

_As if she'd ever be attracted to you, you disgusting old fuck. One kiss while drunk on a vulnerable woman. Way to go, Padfoot. Really picking up where you left before Azkaban._

For the second time that night, she grabbed his arm. "I am so deeply attracted to you. " she said looking at him. 

"But?" Sirius said.

"But I'm a mess right now. And I want you to hold me, to kiss me, quite frankly I want you to , if you are consenting and this doesn't make you repulsed by me, to fuck my brains out. But you deserve honesty and I think both you and I get lied to and led on too much in this Order and politics aside, I don't want to do that to you. Ever."

He looked at her for a moment. Sirius Black was not used to people cutting him so straight except for Remus and Harry, and he was unnerved by what she said. He had been with several women--fumbling, drunk, quickly and hastily left, the lot of them--since his time in Azkaban. None he had started to catch feelings for. Not even so much as a _What if?_

Being too polite to register the stirring in his crotch as she climbed over him, before he could halfway assess her scrambling, she had grabbed the Firewhiskey and returned to her half of the bed. Taking a swig from the bottle, she looked at him, took another and then one more before offering him the bottle.

"Am I that ugly, huh?" He remarked, usual cleverness cut short with the alcohol and blood rushing through his brain.

"Oh no, I took all of my 'I need to avoid puking because of the dog so I better chug this now' shots before I arrived." They laughed in earnest. He missed...this. With anyone, really. Maybe someday he'd tell her, if what she had to say next wasn't horrible.

"Okay, " she said when he set the bottle down and she had some water in her, grabbing his hands, sitting up slightly, meeting his eyes. "What I am about to say is a giant fucking mess, everything about it is messy, gross, slightly repulsive, thoroughly unappealing and I will be happy if you didn't hex me f your doorstep as soon as I'm done. But please, please hear me out. That's all I ask."

He looked t her, "Go ahead." He said, quiet now, not daring to make a joke.

She took one deep breath, closed her eyes for a few moments, tiny hands still enfolding his larger, callused ones with the faded tattoos. She looked open. Bright, Lea looked positive even as she opened her eyes. _Here goes nothing_ she thought.

"Okay. I am not a great. person. Before you say anything, I know we all have dark sides. But you have to understand. These....injures. Are partially my fault." 

Sirius looked confused, the crease between his brows furrowing "Remus had said it was the Death Eater--" 

"It was , sorta. But it was also kind of my fault. " He looked at her now. "I'm not saying that I deserved what happened, or was the direct cause of it. But I did play a part. Me and her--Rissa...my ...fiance...Yes, I had a fiance--" His eyebrows seemed to be fighting now to join at the center, such was his frustration evident on his face. "She was in the Muggle Born Resistance Front. Similar to the Order of the Phoenix, but uh, they did some not nice stuff. They weren't super scrupulous about who they hurt, or how they did it, to achieve their ends...noble thought they may be . I helped them...a lot. And did a lot of that bad stuff. And I can say it's cause I was young and ignorant and in love, and I was. But _I_ did those things. I was party to crimes I may not have known the full extent of, but I contributed to, no matter my reasons for doing it. My hands aren't clean. I wear these scars every day as a reminder, I'm not some hapless victim. "

He stared at her, pulled his hands away. Lea's face start to fell, she mentally prepared herself for the next steps of gathering her belonging and leaving. "That's okay," she heard, so quiet she barely registered it, before looking back at Sirius Black. "I need more details, don't get me wrong," He said. "but Dumbledore trusts you--er uh, he does know, doesn't he?" She nodded, dumbly. _If only you knew..._

"Then that's okay with me." he smiled. "I do want to talk bout this more, but for fucks sake, I am not proud of everything I've done...not in a million years. I have done things I thought were good, and some people I loved di--paid the price for it." His eyes glistened with tears and he felt her stroke his arm as looking away, giving him a moment to rub his eyes in a mock of tiredness. _Lily...James...God but for me you'd be alive...Thirteen Muggles...all of them, dead..._

"That's good. Thank you. For the record, I have heard plenty of what many people have had to say about you, both good and bad. It's part of my job to keep myself safe. I wasn't raised around ya'll, I'm not from here. Nonetheless, I trust you implicitly. I have since I met you." He smiled now, fully. It lit up his face. 

"Okay here goes." Lea breathed in sharply,and nt, letting out a breath, said in one fell swoop. "Also; in addition to my obvious physical ailments, I have a large number more that arent readily available. This is a permanent condition that may never heal or get better. It doesn't seem to be fatal, but curses like this haven't been studied a lot, and it may never change. it may even get worse.

I turn rapidly between desperately needy and physically affection, to absolutely despising attention. I haven't been with anyone sexually or romantically even as fuckbuddies since _it_ happened. And I cannot be sure I won't either catch feelings and make things awkward, burst into tears, decide I can't do things and need space, or all three. 

I am healing, and it is a very, very fraught time. This isn't going to be a casual romp because of that, nor can I promise or should you come to expect anything other than taking it a day at a time. I have no idea what I want or what to give you."

He smiled wanly. "I know what you mean on this last bit. That is all fine, I totally wouldn't expe--"

"And I kissed Severus."

A moments lapse drew out between then. Blood rushed past his ears, his muscles tensing. She saw for a moment, the darkness in his eyes others had feared. The craziness they'd come to expect of a crazed killer. Beneath it, she saw more. Fear, hurt. Something she thought might be rejection.

"Well, uh, he kissed me, but I didn't push him away. I am not sure what it means. I'm sorry, you deserve to know. It's not like we're dating but I know you hate the the guy and I'd feel disgusted with myself if I didn't let you know and fucked you under false pretenses. I am a mess but I'm not that kind of girl. If you are grossed out and want me to leave and not come back, I will."

He looked at her, fury caught in his throat. _I can't believe she would kiss _Snivellus_ , the swag. Then again I don't own her at all, why am I upset? Didn't you want to fuck her a minute ago_.

"I...I don't know what to say. Did you...Is this going to happen again? is that why you came to tell me to...to warn me off? Did you think I was going to...to chase after you like some schoolboy?" He felt his voice and his heat rising. 

The tears were forming at her throat "no, please, just...let me talk. I would give anything for you to listen to me and if you hate me still I will disparate here and you don't ever need to see me again. I just can't have you hating me without being honest why. I'd rather you not hate me for things I didn't do. I know the man. He is vindictive. he will find a way to twist the story and if we had done something and you found out I...I don't want to lie to you. Ever. even if the truth is ugly and you hate me afterward for it."

He looked at her now. "I don't hate you." was all he said.

"But yes, you could, though."

"But I don't."

The breathing calmed slightly.

"Tell me what happened. Well uh, no details please."

"I'll keep it very...edited." she continued, not wanting to risk the soft peace with a gentle smile.

"I went into his Potions room to brew. We brew there often. This is what Poppy and Albus recommend. Towards the end, we had gotten into some kind of argument. I don't remember what. He ended up giving me a Potion. not sure if it was to calm me down. Either right before or after he kissed me. I kissed him back, then if ell asleep in his bed--don't look at me like that. It was a settee he had converted into his bed, he was not in it."

"Did you say he gave you a poti--" 

"I don't think I was drugged. I certainly felt out of sorts but it didn't feel like that. I should know. I haven't felt right lately. I don't talk bout my health, but we've been adjusting potions to see if anything will help." Lea waited as the man before her seethed, hoping he wouldn't go off and hex the man before she finished. 

"We met again a week or two later for more brewing .I had a ...a freakout? A blowup? I don't know. things were exploding, I lost control of my magic. Nobody was seriously harmed, Thankfully." 

"Unfortunate the greasy git wasn't in the way--" He barked out bitterly, a mocking, childish tone.

"Okay, " she smiled, trying to deflect. "Either way , we kissed again we sleep in his bed JUST slept. I can't remember much, I was out of it. He called Dumbledore the next day. Apparently this isn't the first time this has happened. The exploding. not the other part. He didn't like...force himself on me hardcore. If anything, I was the fucked up one. But it wasn't spring and roses. I am not sure what I want to do yet. please don't run off and hex him. We have to be there for Harry" seeing the murdering look in his eyes, grabbing his arms. He breathed in short, heat breaths out of his nostrils, a wild, animalistic face on his soft features. She saw the person he could have been on that day, 13 years ago. 

"I don't regret it, we were both two people there. The circumstances and his position of power make this dubious consent at best, and you are justified in some anger, both at him and me. Or a lot of anger, or none, whatever you want. 

"I know that doesn't solve anything, and I'm a weird ,neurotic, pretty gross mess mentally and physically. If you think you somehow can still want me knowing all of this, and that I can promise 0% stability and definitely more drama in the future ...I'd...like to have some fun, and if you're okay with it, see where it goes. If you continue to gawp at me for enough seconds I'll take that as a 'no thank you ma'am' and go."

Silence passed for what felt like hours by the number of songs she assumed it was just ten minutes.

Quiet as mouse he said , "I'm okay with it. Er...all of it."

"You are ?" she asked. 

"Well, I'm not OKAY with parts of it--I still hate the man, he still feels sketchy and if propriety didn't deem otherwise I'd hex him into next week, but no, I don't care. If you are going to go off snogging other men, though, can you give me a heads up?"

"I am not sure if I plan on snogging anyone. Right now, I'm not even sure I should be here. But I don't regret it. And yes, I will let you know. If I do, you're welcome to be there. If it helps, I've mainly only been with girls."

He looked at her a moment. She let herself though reserved looked unabashedly on the harsh lines of his face. "I'm really happy I came here, thank you." she said quietly.

He leaned over and claimed her lips. Sirius didn't ask, but he paused after a moment to look at her, smiling and nodding breathlessly, he took her in arms and kissed her again. All her weight that had been in her heart in that moment released from her petite frame. And he felt, in forgiving her, feeling lighter; as if he was forgiving one part of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter got some smut in it I PROMISE ya'll. And this is not only the only romantic entanglement and Sev will be featured more as well. Just...read the story.


	14. Chapter 14

His hands were thick, rough, calloused with use. His nails though were meticulously clean. Both masculine and graceful. As they glided through her hair, expertly finding the tie holding back what hadn't yet escaped and released it. He shushed her complaints of needing to fix herself up by fisting his hand into it pulling her head down slightly to nip, lick and suck her neck up towards her ear. Breathing heavily and growling before squeezing the back of her head, nipping and sucking on her earlobe before starting his descent back down towards her breasts. 

He reached down and met her eyes, waiting for a nod before removing the material from her bust. Grunting dumbly looking down at her, all shame lost as he sunk into some deep, primal place within itself. He started unbuttoning his shirt and nearly ripped it off before grabbing the bottom of her pants. Staring up at her he kissed down the valley between her breasts towards her soft stomach, tongue the soft hem of her stomach before grabbing her bottoms and pulling them, taking the scant panties with it. "Merlin..." he growled.

His cock was bulging in his pants now, and he sat on his knees looking down at her full length of her body with lust in his lightly hooded eyes. As if in a trance, he started removing the pants from himself ( _He would be commando, wouldn't he_? she wondered) his cock fell softly once released, he kicked his pants off his legs taking a half second to struggle in the material ( _C'mon you drunken oaf, get your dick out,_ he gruffly pondered). 

As he perched himself on his left hand, his right went down to trace small lines over her body. First her collarbone, delicate sharp, down the swell of her soft breasts, grunting heavily as he gently squeezed the weight of him, his stomach clenching with the sound, his cock moving in time with his sound, as if signalling its presence and need for use. 

He stopped and pulled up, leveled with her eyes, hands on the side of her small frame. "Love?" Mewling slightly at his epithet, she looked down. He looked at her with...hunger. 

Her voice was stone quiet as she said, "You don't have to be afraid of breaking me. It's been awhile but I'm still a woman. I trust you. I'm not...I'm shy. I'm not good at saying what I want. But I will stop you if I need to, okay?" 

"I want to eat you alive," he growled, eyeing up and down her nude form beneath him. 

She gulped. Reached over and dumbly grabbed for water on the bedside, he tried not to laugh or be put off as she took a few gulps. This was not the usual smooth transition he had hoped for. Lea was just internally grateful she had relieved herself prior to their escape up the stairs and that her bladder wasn't pressing. Didn't women in romance novels ever think about UTI's? 

Squashing she said, "I don't wanna think tonight, Sirius. I trust you. Can you just...take care of me?" she said it in such a coquettish voice he almost mistook her meaning before she grabbed his head and roughly pulled it towards her. As he kissed her, he nipped lightly at her mouth before her lips were opened to him. Groaning into her palate, their tongues met, gently moving over one another before parting their lips, in a sensual dance.

He pulled away from her lips and this time captured a breast in his mouth, prompting a mewling cry as her mouth opened as his tongue ran slow circles around her nipple before biting it. He opened his eyes and raised his head to see her eyes, her nodding her continual. The non verbal attempt at communication fueling her further, his ministrations becoming less inhibited and more confident with her approval, he sucked one nipple down as her ragged breath increased. He lightly cupped the other breast before laving over the other in turn. His hands traveled down her hips, roughly pulling her to him. 

He growled, she moaned. Their voices mixing together in a primal dance of sound and utterance. Eyes met--blue met gray. One blink. Two. A nod. He shoved his face down to meet her vulva, grabbed her legs at the knees and pulled them open, burying his nose in her labia and inhaling deeply. She gasped just as much in shock and arousal as he she the felt the vibration of him moaning into her already-wet cunt. 

He pressed the full length of his tongue at her entrance and deftly licked up to her clitoris. Gently releasing her legs, firmly planting his hands onto her hips. he settled down onto his stomach and pulled her closer to his face. He lightly lathed her clitoris, the softness of his breath and the barest intrusion sending shivers up her spine, so different from his last guttural action. He sent little tiny licks in concordant strings of sonata up and down the length of her hardening clitoris. 

Her body rose in time with the tiny drumbeats of his tongue, first this way, now that. he made a game of seeing what music she could make in time with his instruction. His mouth closed on her clitoris suddenly, firmly sucking the tiny length into his mouth. She let out a guttural cry, pulling his head into her body. He held her hips more firmly down, not allowing her control of the situation. 

Eyes darting being closed as he lathed over her clitoris, pausing now to look at her, tongue darting softly between her delicate folds, licking at her entrance, now firmly planting his tongue inside. The length of his nose slightly dipped into her labia and back out as he fucked her on his tongue, bouncing her body back and forth against his jaw, his nose grinding more firmly into her mons as he buried his face the full length. 

His voice became a string of growls and what may have been expletives, the vibration of the endless noise being the tiny bit that pushed her over the edge. Crying with a higher pitched tone, a delicacy on his ears, he grabbed the worst pulling at his hair and held it firmly between his fingers pulling his hand across her hips and pulling her body further into his mouth as she crashed against him. It started first in small cries and moans then crescendoed into sobs, not abating until she kept shuddering, tiny aftercries in the glow of the first proper orgasm she'd had in years washed over.

Looking up and seeing her tears, he immediately left her to pull her against his chest. He lent his weight to one elbow as he kissed her forehead, pulling his hands through her knotted hair, smoothing, now lightly caressing, whispering nothings about how he felt for her he normally would leave for thought. He told her she was safe, and she nearly shrieked, he looked at her wide eyed until she pulled his mouth into hers. She tried to force his mouth deeper, as if eating him whole. She held her jaw firmly, paused o look at her then as he took control again kissing the length of her jaw, her ear, her nose, back to her lips again as she whimpered for his entrance of his tongue.

he granted it and moaned into her mouth, unsure of where he even remembered how to do this after so many years. No, it had never been like this, he thought swiftly.

As she calmed down, he looked at her, slightly reluctant but with a hunger and a sadness and a yearning she hadn't seen in him before, it seemed to echo all the years he'd lost and how many more he may yet lose. Without speaking as he went to speak, she pulled him against her. He righted himself.

he had lost some stiffness in his cock when he was comforting her, but his seeing her tears mixed with sweat as she pulled her onto him, her small body pressing into his firm one, he felt right and for once was not self conscious about his gaunt frame, the weight he had lost, the old man he saw int he mirror .

He pushed his girth into her. she stilled and cried out--he stopped, "I don't want to hurt, we can sto--"

"Please." she said, grabbing his arm. "Just..go slow...at first." Nodding silently, he began to kiss her neck. Looking at her, he held both of her hands in one hand loosely, the other he used to pull her head to the side using her hair.

Nipping her more firmly, he felt her jump into him. He had held himself completely still at her entrance. He no longer had to worry about remaining stiff her cries against him and the pulsation he felt of her vaginal canal as it begged his entrance. He pushed into her now, feeling the hot wet of the walls tighten around him, as he pushed into her more firmly.

They took their time at this dance, him kissing, licking, teasing, her crying,mewling, keening, her arms ran up and down his slight figure. Not tensing when she found and traced the designs up his chest , over his arm, down to his back. The sigils played homage to a tome old as earth, the sinking and joining of two bodies, of two miseries seeking completion for a moment of lust and a beg of affection. 

He looked up now, and while he was slightly longer than average, he was very thick, she felt ready to allow him . He pushed through in one steady, hot moment and his eyes rolled back into his head. When they opened and leveled at her she saw a new man different form all the different Sirius Blacks she had met tonight. This was the Hunter. The Ranger. The eyes of someone ready to claim what was his, with no hesitation. He waited for one last, tiny, imperceptible nod before he claimed her as his own. he grabbed her hips and leaning back onto his knees, began ramming into her body steadily faster. Not enough to _Hurt_ her much, but enough to feel her walls pounding around him. Very quickly, she came again. he felt it slamming down seemingly out of nowhere, and had to mentally prevent his balls from spilling inside of her, so heavy was the pulling on his taught member.

he did not stop his speed, but he did readjust , Leaning closer to her. His hand that was leaning above her head, he looked at her as he rested it on her collarbone, she gave him a look eh didn't have to interpret. lightly placing it on her neck, she started smiling. He did not want to take this as consent, but when she took her hands from off the small of his back and pulled one on his hand, pulling it more firmly on her windpipe, he nearly grunted into her.

his hand tightened lightly on the sides of her throat, watching her eyes dilate and her breathing stop as her throat constricts he released slightly. he wanted just enough to allow breath,not enough to pass out. he tried not to think too heavily as her walls closed around him more when she was struggling to breath. He didn't like to cause pain exactly--but he knew what a useful tool it was for when it came time to make the beast with two backs. He moved his hand off of her windpipe and put one hand under her shoulder blades. He pulled her legs down, pulling it closer to the ground and on either side of him, and tapped on her ankle so she would close them over one another.

Locked in between her legs like this, she was tighter than before. Her breath rose an octave as she began mewling with every thrust. Lowering his mouth to grab a breast and suckle on it lazily as he slowly thrust into her, he knew he couldn't last much longer. Before she was ready to explode, he grabbed her by the hips and before Lea could register what had happened, flipped her around. Her ass high in the above him, he pushed her forward roughly by the hips so she was closer to the headboard. He went to grab her head to push it down, pulling her hair back to meet her eyes before continuing the ritual.

He paused when he heard her giggle. "Uh, love, it's kind of hard to do this when you're laughing" 

She apologized "I'm so sorry, it's just that...you're doing me... _doggy style_. he laughed full-bodied, she saw his body shake and his eyes crinkle and new life come into his eyes she hadn't seen so genuine many times since they'd been together. His mouth then closed slightly, still in a smile. He kept the smile for a moment too long , his eyes leering down. In a moment the smile became a snarl. he pushed here face down into the bed, her having just enough to brace her arms against the wall so that her head didn't bash into the headboard. He held himself with one hand and when firmly seated in her began thrusting wildly. She quickly reached her third orgasm of the night, her walls so tight in this position he felt he might burst on her. 

She was sobbing into the board, she felt him lean close behind her as he let go of her head. He hooked both of her arms into one of each of his behind her back , and used this leverage to lean into the bed with her, cock thrusting into her as he grunted in her ear. He tried to kiss, lick, suck whatever he could reach as he pounded wildly towards oblivion, growling so loud with each thrust it was nearly a roar. She was sobbing into the bed , her own release coming, her thoughts interrupted and scattered. It wasn't until he pushed her further into the bed, her laying completely prone and locked both of her ankles in between his feet, that she knew she would be undone. Releasing one arm but keeping the other hooked, he pulled her head back after pushing hr face to the side, and brushed the hair out of her face, softly kissed her lips while in this vulnerable position and his cock drove into her. she kept sobbing both from release and from another orgasm,and another.

he hadn't remembered lasting this long in some time, but was for the moment grateful his constant masturbation made him last longer than previously thought. He looked at her, seeing such warmth and trust into those delicate grey eyes, stained green from her tears, he lost himself. bit her shoulder roughly to avoid screaming into her ear as his own monster orgasm ripped out of him in a roar, her tears choked with cries as she could only lay there prone as he pounded into her, his teeth deep enough to cause blood. the juxtaposition of his soft hands, his rough arms, his feet holding her completely still and her own delicate position where she was forced to confront all of her inhibitions as she cried out. He sat with tendrils of cum shooting out of him as he burst forth for many moments of small victories and cries as his own strangled cries died down. He licked and kissed away the blood on her shoulder, drying quickly.  
He slowly exited her as she looked at him, eyes shaking, he pulled her into his chest and started apologizing. She reassured him she wanted it, but through tears again he calmed her. comforting her, kissing her, telling her she'd be safe and he wouldn't leave her. Words he would not regret but would pretend he hadn't said in the morning, words far more befitting of someone he hadn't only fucked once and met less than 5 times. He held her roughly to him, growling if she tried to move.Even in his afterglow, his protective nurturing side coupled so softly with the rough pounding exterior of a man finally allowed to let go of 13 years of lust and anger in the arms of a sobbing woman who begged for hims o completely. His eyes closed, in the morning, she would still be there.


	15. Chapter 15

**November 30, 1997**

Lea woke to the distinctive sound of breathing, in and out. A hot, masculine breath of air, fully imbibing the smoke, letting it play across the tongue before exhaling. She felt the smoke tickle her face before being swatted away, with what she assumed was the same hand that paused stroking up and down her arm, or to take drags off of a fag.

She opened her eyes and looked over at a very relaxed, and very naked Sirius staring intently at her. His eyes still heavily lidded from the night before, eyes always gaunt but with a slight mirth that hadn't been there yesterday, tattooed , muscled ribcage and upper ribs peering out from under the blanket.

It flirted dangerously low to the indents in his hipbones .

 _'Cumgutters', Rissa always called them,_ , she thought loosely.

"See? Dessert and now a view." It was said so effortlessly on the exhale of his cigarette, now barely a nub, as he looked at her intently. He wandlessly magicked it over to the ashtray towards his left. 

She blanched, cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red as his Cheschire grin deepened. For all of a dog, he could positively feline when he intended it. She gulped, "How much do you remember last night?" remembering the state of his liquor bottles and their consumption.

His eyebrows furrowed, as if disappointed. His broad shoulders withdrew slightly. "I remember everything love, are you alright poppet?" His effusion of words was said with gentle caresses, on her shoulder, her cheeks, even on her forehead. Though whether that last was mocking or not, Lea wasn't sure.

"Of course, Sirius," she smiled lazily, stretching. He appreciated how the blanket lifted up with her, the gap between it giving him a front row view to the sight that had him in ecstasy last night. His gaze looked hungry. The dog was back.

She looked at him, quelling him, slight smile on her face. "I haven't done that in well, I don't know, years, and I hope you don't think I was too much, and if you don't want to do this again that's fi--"

"Darling with all due respect, please shut up." He said it so casually she looked affronted, then had to laugh. He laughed easily, taking her head gently and kissing her. She melted into him with an unexpected ease of familiarity, this new exploration in the daytime a brilliant glimpse into even new experiences. He felt himself hardening and moaned into her. As he began sucking on her shoulder and exposed her breasts to pull her into him, ready and willing, a loud knock on the door disrupted him.

She looked at him alarmed. Soundlessly, they reached instinctively for their wands, both of which had been stored by their respective bedsides. She grabbed that first, crouching down onto the ground to grab the nearest shorts and shirt she saw, nevermind they were Sirius'. 

A further knock, "It's Remus, Padfoot, are you there?" 

"I'm coming you tosser, can't a gent sleep in his own home?"

"Come, there's been an issue at the Ministry. And Ms. Beauvais, will you be joining us downstairs?" 

They both stopped their hodge-podge dash for clothes, looked at each with wide eyes. Not having time to dwell. "I'm getting geared up, give me 5. Sirius, I need that cane, just toss it."

He tossed it to her, she grabbed it effortlessly, waving her hand above the hilt of the curved wood. Her wand slipped into a small hole revealed when the head of the cane pushed back. she pushed it back down. It was a gift from her parents upon leaving St. Mungos, but nobody acknowledged how useful it would be in a battle.

Reaching for her extended bag, she _Accio'd_ an all-over robe and some bottoms, shoved her feet into the sensible shoes she brought everywhere, and did a fancy Charm sequence that Sirius didn't recognize that spelled all her effects including the records smaller, into her bag, and her bag jutted to attach itself at her side, where she shot her arm and neck through the hole for it to rest at her hip.

As she started towards the door, she looked at him with a practiced ease that would confuse him if his heart wasn't pounding in his chest. Shirtless, barefoot, he pulled his wand. 

They looked at Remus Lupin dressed in his Sunday best (which unfortunately meant most people's idea of Tuesday Hangover). "Guys, the house is safe, Please, come downstairs. Molly and some of the other Order members are on the way. Quit freaking out Lea--please. Sirius sent me a Patronus this morning. Just go." 

They jolted down the stairs, Sirius surprised at how nimbly she ran. he remembered she had stated her issue was pain--not mobility. And that her lithe, young body would be perfectly healthy if not for the seizures. 

He nearly overtook her with his longer strides but instead kept up the rear, taking Lupin's word but keeping all options open and viewing the exits. She walked into the kitchen nearly knocking Molly over when she slammed open the door. 

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Weasley, please forgive me. I just heard there's news and I was afraid. Healer instinct."

"Call me Molly dear, here, when did you Floo in? Oh here, sit down, you look a state." 

They both were ushered into the kitchen, wands being shushed away as they were handed two boiling hot cups of tea and some dry biscuits she assumed Mrs. Weasley had procured from whatever food stores Sirius had. She looked in a mirror hanging behind her and saw her hair was reeking of 'Sex hair' , and spelled a quick updo with her wand; the benefits of having a Charms expert for a Mother. She took one look at a haggard Sirius, and spelled his hair slightly more brushed-through, leaving it less slick than hers. He looked at her with a raised eyebrows as the cool shimmering vibrations of the spell went around him.

"Beautiful as my mother coming back from the dressers, eh, Moll?" She looked back with a sour face and turned back around. He exchanged sympathetic glances with Lea. If there was one thing she understood, it was humor as a coping mechanism. Lupin appeared in the kitchen a moment later to throw Sirius a shirt, jumper, socks and shoes. The two men nodded wordlessly and Lea appreciated the practiced ease with which they could communicate nonverbally even during trying times. 

Looking up and seeing nobody was yet responding. Lea took the lead. "I am trained in crisis tactics, but if anyone is hurt, I need to know now. Dumbledore told me my job at Order is to help heal and the more time we wait, the more time somebody could be dead." They both looked over at her as she sipped her hot tea struggling to calm her nerves.

Lupin came over, "Nobody is physically hurt in the Order. we are having an emergency meeting from today's news. Did you read the paper?" 

She looked at him "At behest of sounding like a layabout, I've been up for less than ten minutes. Please just tell me." 

Before she could scream, a harangued Molly handed her a news paper. There on the front page of the Daily Prophet:

_**Believed Dead Famed Wizard Peter Pettigrew Found ALIVE at Ministry of Magic!** _

_Veritaserum results shock Aurors--Inside Job? Voldemort's cohort? Sirius Black innocent? MORE inside!_

Looking over the quickly flashing image of Peter Pettigrew in all kinds of magical bindings up to and including a full metal box showing only his head, with a note taped nearly crushed with dirt that said, "Drink me," and what she had assumed was a sampling of Veritaserum, if the article was to be believed. Over her shoulder, she heard a string of curses and what felt like a choked sob behind her.

She felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder briskly and then start shaking. She divested the hand with one arm and stood fully before Sirius who was now standing behind her. He looked at her and she saw a flash of ten emotions in a second. The way the man wore his heart on his sleeve pulled her in and her eyes starting tearing. She didn't know that much about Peter Pettigrew, but she knew the story just the same as anybody else in Britain and even other parts of the world.

The man grabbed her roughly by the side of the face, pulling her in quickly for a kiss that would be so devastatingly, torturously sweet and soft once his face hit hurts she could cry. Before she could moan into his mouth, a shocked gasp from Molly and a brief 'ahem' from the ever-polite Remus shocked them back to reality. 

She turned back at Molly and they all looked at each other awkwardly for half a second. Not yet realizing there was anything going on. Molly just stood there flabber-gasted. As open-minded as she may be, Molly was still a proper witch in many ways and took a little less kindly to public displays of affection. She pushed Sirius firmly off of her but grasping his shoulder firmly and giving him a hungry look in his eyes before turning around. She hope he felt reassured and not cowed.

The man looked more vulnerable and some how scared than she'd ever seen him in the short time they had known one another.

"Pardon the impropriety Molly, if ever there was an occasion to celebrate, this seems like one. or we'll hope.

"Okay, so that's the news. Anything else?", she said, perhaps too sharply. Sirius looked down at the shorter witch, thoughts racing, mind almost blanket with relief, fury, fear, anger, and bitterness swelled up inside him. As she sat down back in the chair in front of him , him behind her with his back facing the wall, she didn't comment or move his hand that was firmly grasping her shoulder. It was if he needed to be rooted to a physical object, a living person, so that he didn't go floating off into space. Lea looked over her left shoulder at the man nearly shaking with breaths coming in deeper gasps.

She took his arms and said, "Sirius, will you sit down with me? This is a lot, I could use some company." She knew of the 'babysitter clause', which stated that if any person was too anxious to do something for themselves, it was easier to do it for another person in need. Tasked with something, Sirius sat down. He constantly needed to do something, she had surmised. Drinking was something. Smoking was something. And now, babysitting Lea was something. Lea decided to leave any deep pondering on the meanings behind that for later. 

Before anyone could hardly blink, several loud CRACKS shot the air in random intervals. Both Weasley twins, Mr. Weasley and a grave-faced Albus all piled into the room. A very annoyed Kreacher popped in to set tables and magically procure chairs for guests. He popped out of the room as soon as he was no longer needed, mumbling the entire time. 

The chatter was very loud until Albus Dumbledore waved his hand, and everybody sat. He remained standing. She noticed the usual chipper face was gone. "By now you've all undoubtedly heard the news. It is true, Peter Pettigrew has been captured. Kingsley said he was going to try to keep it quiet, but it was too difficult with the Minister breathing down our backs and with so many Aurors popping in the moment he was unable to. It seemed like a staged drop, timed at the exact moment that everyone would arrive. We are not sure how, but it seems there were guards in place preventing him from transforming. I can't give too many more details, but Severus Snape was tasked with trying to find out anything he can from Tom's side. Undoubtedly, Voldemort is furious."

Everyone whispered harshly among themselves until he raised his hand.

"Arthur?", Albus implored.

Mr. Weasley looked up from the eyes of his anxious wife and said, "There isn't any more information from the Auror department. I received word from Tonks that her and Mad-Eye have been in closed-door meetings all day. There is little they can let us know except it seems so far that they were able to prove beyond a reasonable doubt there was no Polyjuice, Chimaera or masking charms blocking him. They are expecting a team of experts to declare it official, then after questioning, he's set to fit trial."

He nodded to Arthur then looked at Sirius. Sirius gripped her thigh harder he had been holding at this point. Lea reached over and put her small hand on his, and it clamped instantly over hers, his fingers firmly but gently holding and stroking her pawn with his thumb absentmindedly.

"Sirius, I understand you are anxious and how much you will want to move. But I need you to understand. There is already pressure from the ministry to procure you. They seem to think that _I_ for somehow would know your whereabouts," for once, the Weasley twins and Sirius kept their remarks deadly quiet.

"I am trying to hold them off, saying there is no reason to suspect you've been in the country any time recently. Listen to me very carefully Sirius: If you allow us to take time--" raising his hand as Sirius went to cut him off, lowering his voice slightly.

"Just a bit of time. Maybe months, if not weeks. They want to expedite a trial. The Ministry knows that people are aware that Voldemort's Death Eaters are still uncaptured, and they need a good win on this. If you are willing to submit to tell your side of the story, they can all but guarantee you amnesty. But this has to be carefully done. They have suspected the Order of the Phoenix is involved and will use no excuses to take us apart. Look at me everyone, we will make it through this."

They all looked at once another. Dumbledore had some more announcements but once people broke off to argue among themselves he looked directly at Lea and said , "And Lea, could you join me please here? I'm sure that Sirius won't mind our use of his library."

As she stood up, she was quelled by the iron grip of Sirius on her hand, his eyes shooting wildly between the older man and the woman to whom he was firmly attached. "Sirius," Dumbledore said, motioning to the wild-eyed man, sitting in front of him. "Won't you show Ms. Beavais where the library is?" 

He stood quickly and led her gently by the hand. The juxtaposition of the roughness and wildness of this man with the gentle way in which he almost reverentially seemed to treat her wasn't lost on the others, nor on her. At this point, her anxiety was too high to worry. Holding open a door for her and holding back a chair while his other hand guided her gently by the back, she marveled at the perfect way in which his body seemed to guide her along. _My seeing eye dog uh...my walking leg dog?_

Fully seated, Dumbledore looked at her.

"I think it would be best if you stayed at Grimmauld Place for the foreseeable future." Noticing her confusion he said, "I think it would be practical for safety. I'm certain that Sirius won't mind?" Seeing a strange look in his eyes, Sirius nodded in assent.

"Headmaster with all due respect , what the hell is going on? Am I being fired? Am I in trouble in some way? Am I in danger?" 

Looking at her rapid fire questions he waited for a lull in her breathing, noticing the way the younger man seemed to pull her into himself as soon as she started spiking. They fed off of each others energies, taking what comfort and strength they had between them and matching it to the best of their ability. Albus continued "Pettigrew mentioned your name. We are not sure why Lea, do not worry. You are safe here. You are not being fired--in fact, you will be working more than ever soon, I'm afraid , if Voldemort has his way.

"For now until we figure out what we are up against, we need you here. I can have your effects brought to you this evening."

Looking at him bewildered , a wrinkle between her lightly lined eyes and glistening with tears, all she could choke out was , "But Albus, _my plants_. Some of them are rare and will die without me, I need--"

"Pomona has graciously offered to take care of your plants. The students are only aware you are taking an extended holiday with family, and that you may participate in a Mediwtich intensive. These are not wholly inaccurate, but vague enough to dispute questions. I will give you more details as I go. Is there anything you need?"

She looked at him. "Everything I have can fit in two trunks. I need all of it. And my plants...I need those for my potions. Not just the ones Severus brews with me, " She heard a snarl behind her at the mention of the Potion master's name, but ignored it. "I can't miss them. I can die without them, Professor. We don't have time to test any new things from scratch."

Looking at her critically he turned to Sirius. "Sirius, are you capable of providing a large room Ms. Beauvais can stay in? I know you have the room, it is particulary sunlight we will need. At short supply in this home, I understand."

Blinking dumbly he spoke up. "There is a 2nd master bath on the 2nd floor, across from mine . It has a big bed but we can charm it smaller, it has a breakfast nook built in that the others don't with tall French windows. would that work?"

Before she could finish opening her mouth Albus said, "That will be perfect I'm sure. Lea, I will have Pomona pack up and send anything this week. I am sure you know her assistant, Mr. Longbottom?" Lea nodded, he was very kind and was with the Potter boy often. They often discussed plants and on a few occasion she had traded clippings of Louisiana-native plants in exchange for his helping her carry supplies up from Potions to the infirmary. Though, she did often say she would do it for free, she didn't wonder if the particular snot-nosed view of the Potions Master anytime the Longbottom boy was within his presence was worth it. 

The headmaster dolled on, "He is in the Order,though like many of our young charges he is not away on missions until he finishes school. I will have him assist with packaging the plants to be delivered tomorrow. if you could use this evening to freshen up, relax, and prepare your room, we can give you some things to keep you busy."

"Albus," she said looking at him. "Some of these things require two wan--" 

"I am more than certain Sirius can help with anything you need, "He said more firmly, his eyes growing more serious. "He had some of the highest marks in school, Nearly all Outstandings--including Potions, much to the chagrin of our current Potions master." 

_Must he bring up that greasy, bloody git? Can't he tell the bird is just as annoyed as I am?_

Nodding, she sunk back into her chair, deflated, as Sirius went into a mode she rarely saw, calculating. 

Dumbledore recommended to Sirius that he take care of Lea's tea "you preferred coffee, didn't you dear? Oh gosh, Molly wouldn't know, no, I promise you, let me get Kreacher-" as a crack sounded and then sounded again of the elf leaving the room with their order of coffee (ignoring Lea's disconcerted glance at Sirius' decree to make his 'extra Irish'), she heard the headmaster talking in the hall hurriedly and loud voices of what could only be the drawl of the Potions master. 

As he slammed into the door, she jumped slightly while Sirius only tensed. Sitting slightly behind and to the right of her facing the door , his arm gripped on her tightly while the other reached for his wand. Stepping in the way of the two men, Albus stood there serenely with a smile on his face as bright as the sun and his blue eyes looking at both people. _What does this old man know?_ Lea found herself thinking. Feeling uncomfortable with the heat between the two men she went to sit up when Sirius noticed her distress. Dropping his glare at the taller man he put an arm on her shoulder and looked at her. Wordlessly nodding, she sat back down, now closer to him. Phased out, she barely noticed anything else except for Sirius and the thought sin her head. She didn't acknowledge the Potions master until two large trunks landed loudly at her feet, containing what she assumed were her belongings.

Looking at him she said again, "How did you get past my wards? I have changed them three times!" As Sirius went to stand back up Albus said "ENOUGH" loudly enough they all sat down.

"Severus, please see yourself downstairs. Lea, Severus was of course let in as a Head of House assisting someone, accompanied by house elves and Madame Pomfrey, who is aware of your 'extended vacation' and keyed him in on her own wards. Please, sit down. Sirius, Severus is leaving. Please spend your day preparing the room and staying inside. I trust I don't need to remind you the importance of the work we all do for _Harry_?"

As they all looked at each other at the boy's name everything seemed to sour. Moving out of the room as if they didn't exist, the door slammed behind Severus. Holding her as she shivered, she buried her face into Sirius' neck and surprisingly, she cried. While comforting someone during his own freakout and fighting his urge to jump out the window to go kill the man currently held at the Ministry, Sirius held her deep into his own chest and stroked her hair, kissed her all over the face, nose, cheeks and wiped away her tears until she merely shook in his arms. He held her tightly, and for once the pain he had felt in his chest since Remus saw them that morning abated a little. In some grim part of himself, he appreciated that he would get an indefinite amount of _this_ whatever _this_ was, for the foreseeable future. that thought alone brought him through his rage and quelled his anxious mind.


	16. Chapter 16

**March 13, 1997**

He watched them through the halls, through the days and nights. Stared at the taller man as he led her around on his finger, his hand always hovering. His eyes always conniving, saving every scrap and thread of public affection or of hints of domination until the smaller man saw them.

Sirius had always hated Severus, instinctively since they were children. Any part of him that felt guilty of his bullying after 12 years stuck in self reflection and misery disappeared the day he saw how he handled her. Like a puppet, like a marionette on the string. She doted on him, she with the sandy hair, the quick laugh. The way she would struggle and he would walk away, not even helping her , still bandy on her crutches and re-learning her legs.

Forced to be nothing more than a lap dog, a jockey, an _errand boy_. Stupidly he had accepted this mission. Knowing he would be ancillary, it would be difficult, he may die and they could not accept responsibility. Sirius knew that this mission was of the utmost importance and that it was his only chance until a release that may never come to get out of the house and do something good for "Harry, for the Order".

He thought dimly as he set on the veranda smoking his last rolled cigarette that if it weren't for the face of the green eyed boy he saw in his head, he would have packed up and quit long before now. Sirius was not a patient man, and his kindness was wearing thin.

It was only a few days before Severus picked up on it. That his reasons for disliking his treatment of the girl was not just jealousy for not having his own woman, not just Gryffindor bravery, but of something deeper. The torture continued. It seemed the more Sirius tried to act brave the worse it got. Snape would tease the girl--hand under her skirt when 'no one' save Sirius was looking, pushing her up against a wall like a 5th year. He knew that Sirius, being on watch, would see. And he would save these little excursions purely for his amusement. Not wanting to damage the potion, and her sensitivities, he could not say anything. If only she knew. <

It wasn't until that evening he saw it. He walked up on an ajar door and saw them. Her on her knees in front of the headmaster, his ridiculous frock coat only barely covering her head bobbing up and down in time with his cock. He heard the choking sounds as "Snivellus" grabbed her by the head and looked down, stroked her cheek lightly before absentmindedly choking him back down on her cock. It wasn't until she pulled up and asked for a second she saw the Potions Master's eyes dart. She turned around suddenly, releasing him, and noticed the door was open and an open-mouthed furious Sirius. Sirius was shaking, his eyes wild, weight still not gained back from his stint, his gaunt eyes nearly glowing in their blue intensity in the darker corridor. Both hands were clenched into a fist but his wand and was held steady

It was only a screech from her as she turned at Severus and screamed at him to shut the door, asked what the hell he was doing, that Sirius saw a little bit of panic enter into the Potion Master's face. He had pushed her too far, she had caught on. His abuse had started to ell. 

Sirius could see her, losing weight, shine in her eyes lost .She followed the taller man like a puppy, eyes wide with devotion while the rest of her starved for the few bits of attention she got. He knew the kind. He knew this was more for _his_ benefit than for Severus' own. Only a truly cruel man would make a girl suffer to appease his own ego of a 20 year old rivalry and an unrequited crush. ( _Dangerous obsession, more like_ , Sirius thought).

Dumbledore did nothing, her parents seemed oblivious and supportive of the man. It wasn't until now he saw some realization in her face. He heard screaming before the door wordlessly slammed shut and he heard the unearthly silence signifying that she had seen.

It was several hours later on the veranda she approached him. The bird did not like smoke near her plants, her precious flowers, even the 'slightest bit could ruin a concoction'. If it weren't for her gentle eyes, he would burn the entire lot right now. He knew she needed her potions for pain, and he would do nothing to stop that, no matter how furious h was.

A gentle touch on his shoulder, "Sirius". he turned around, gentle grey eyes stained green with the reflection of the red from where she had been crying. her hair was mussed. She had cleaned her clothes and seemed to have applied some attempt at freshening up. 

"I'm so sorry, I am so humiliated, I would never, that fucking git, I'm not like tha--"

Her hand was on _his shoulder_. He must really be a lovesick dog indeed if it caused something to stir in him. Something about those wide blue eyes looking at him in earnest, it took his self control and the fact he wasn't allowed to drink while on duty that prevented him from grabbing and kissing the tears off of her soft features. he pushed the hair hair out of her eyes with one arm as he took his other with her hands. "He's an asshole. Snape has always been a pompous git, since he was young. I'm sorry you found out this way."

"I knew he was being risky, and I talked to him about it. For some reason I always end up saying yes, even though I always want to talk him out of it. I didn't think I'd get into something like this, I'm suppoesd to be smarter than this,and here I am risking our entire mission for some di--" 

He kissed her. Gently, not forcing, not even minding the part in his head niggling to wonder if she had wiped the cretin off of her face. She was so pure, so delicate, so kind that part of him falsely wondered if anything could ever stain her soft skin, no matter the scars on it, to him she was perfect.

She slowly leaned into the kiss and both hands came up to gently hold her face. She pulled apart and looked at him confused. 

"I'm sorry, I should not have done that" he says, trying to walk away.

She grabbed his arm and he turned back around with a smile. "It's okay."

He laughed gently, taking her hand. He offered her a puff of his cigarette. Lea never smoked, she said it was bad for her already ailing health. But for once she took it with her other hand and took a large, large drag.

"My parents talked to Albus. I had them fFoo him after our interaction. I gave them the summary .They knew we had something going on. Anyway, we aren't going to be working together anymore."

His eyebrows knit together as he turned towards her. "He and I aren't working together anymore. You and I are on staff. Most of the work he and I do together doesn't need two people there, or we can switch off with my father on shifts. I still need protection. Just...I don't know why am I even telling you all this." She looked at her feet, he pulled her into him.

 _Is it over, truly?_ he wondered to himself, not letting the connection with her hand break.

************

**November 30, 1997 ******

****

****Later that afternoon, Sirius walked Lea up to his en-suite Master bathroom; she felt she didn't really need it, but feeling how the man clung to her firmly as if afraid he'd drift away, she allowed him. A part of her still disgusted by touch wanted to shy away, but she appreciated the heat of his skin. He was so warm, and always smelled vaguely of autumn leaves.** **

****He held her a hand a second too long as he met her, searching her eyes. He closed the door behind her and shot a spell towards the bath shooting it out at perfect temperature for her to relax. She quickly dressed in some Muggle pajama pants and a band t-shirt she had gotten at a concert with her ex from a local punk show. it rang _The Hell Katz!_ a washed-up 80s style punk band. She didn't allow that memory to blind her and stumbled downstairs still towel-drying her hair. She shushed away his offer to wand dry her hair as she sat down in the living room. It was more full of people now.** **

****Both the Weasley twins were still there, starting a Quidditch discussion with Sirius, debating whether or not there was enough evening light left to do a pickup-game. The boys seemed only there to keep Sirius from going off the deep end, but Lea appreciated their help nonetheless. Jokesters or not she was aware they were skilled wizards, fiercely loyal and working as if from one mind in battle and life. She knew they would keep him and the other Order members protected. When they announced they would be staying for the better part of a week, she smiled inwardly.** **

****That was one of the few times that day that Sirius smiled in genuine.** **

****Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were busying themselves with dinner and talking among themselves. Currently it was just them, though it was said more may be stopping in throughout the following week, on this or that business. Sirius seemed happy about this information, but Lea felt lost at sea, adrift in a room full of relative strangers, her home base unsafe, her world unsafe.** **

****"Did you want to join us, love?" She looked over at Sirius, the other redheaded group staring at her.** **

****"Pardon?"** **

****"Did you want to come join our game of Quidditch."** **

****"I uh...I've never played."** **

****"Wotcher, Sirius," said Fred.** **

****"We've got ourselves a viiiirgin." They said in unison.** **

****"BOYS. Watch your language!" Mrs. Weasley started as Arthur stilled her.** **

****"I would love to watch, but I don't think I can play. I know how to ride a broom but I doubt that's a good idea."** **

****"Come on," said Sirius, walking over to her. "it would be great, don't bea pansy."** **

****"Sirius, I haven't ridden since I got hurt. I could fall off the broom or have a seizure."** **

****He looked concerned and everyone at that point seemed certainly interested in their hands. He didn't let up. She wondered if he had already had a drink, judging based on what she saw in his hand. She had some bad thoughts, but saved them.** **

****"Are you really scared you'll fall, poppet?" His hand grabbed her arm. Everyone had long since noticed his familiar touch of her, though she wasn't sure how she felt about it. He was a very affection man. Even with his male friends, the touch came naturally to them. So different from American friendships, the British at least here seemed to hung or gather round one another, heads touched, knees among one another. She had long since seen Hogwarts boys fall asleep with heads on one another shoulders or even laps.** **

****She did wonder however if this was a byproduct of war, of pain felt too young.** **

****Distracted again realized she was staring she said, "I probably won't, but I'm pretty sure you don't have flight insurance, and I wouldn't want to slow down your game. "** **

****He looked at her up and down, stood closer to her. She suddenly felt on display as he started prowling around her, Sirius eyeing her up and down. He pulled out his wand, "Just trust me."** **

****The boys were sniggering now. "He lifted one arm of hers, then another, watching her head swivel around.** **

****"You know, I"m a knack at Sticking Charms..."** **

****Her brows furrowed as her eyes got large. "NO. Whatever you're thinking, no."** **

****"I don't know, " Said George, "This sounds like a great idea. I'm sure we can assist!"** **

****"Come now," said Fred, stepping forward, "I easily know a variation of some of the charms we use for our Whizbangs to help with directional assistance during flight...." as they both bustled forward talking animatedly together, completely ignoring the much shorter and much angrier woman in their midst.** **

****"BOYS", Mrs. Weasley yelled from the kitchen. They all stopped and looked over as Molly strided towards them, putting her arms around the smaller girl.** **

****"You are not going to hurt her, she clearly doesn't want to and we are not going to kill anyone, today!"** **

****Lea looked over at the older woman and a strange mood hit her eye. Lea was reminded of her mother and how much she missed the woman who had raised her as her own even as a total stranger. Lea looked at her,** **

****"Thank you Molly. Don't worry, I think it'll be fun to try. I'm not keen on dying, so I'll make sure they don't explode themselves or whatever it is you say they get up to in their workshop." Molly smiled now at the queer woman, and upon noticing her right shoulder, motioned her towards the stairs. "Now we cant have you catching a cold in those bottoms, please come up, no no, come now, boys, go get ready outside and Sirius be a dear and double check the enchantments..."** **

****As they headed upstairs Lea tried to fend her off on the stairs. While she was certain it was fairly obvious that she had spent the night, she did not want to draw attention to the fact her stuff was camped out in Sirius' room. Ignoring her panic, Molly shushed her away with her hand and ran her to Sirius room. Looking in the eye, she shut the door, giving a scrunched up nose at the Muggle posters of the half naked women.** **

****"Dear, are you okay? the back of your ne-"** **

****"OH MY GOD." Lea quickly cast a Silencing charm. "I'm so sorry, Molly, I'm mortified. I never knew anyone was coming and I am not normally this way...oh what you must think of me, my mother would have a heart attack.."** **

****Molly gave her a strange look. "It's okay dear, I was young too once. I remember when Arthur and I first started dating, we couldn't hands off of each other. Just please, mind if the younger kids do come around, last thing I need is the twins having more fuel. And listen, I know you do not have many friends here. I want you to know Arthur and I are always a resource to you. And...and listen.** **

****"Sirius is a dear and a friend, but he's very...sensitive since Azkaban. Just...be careful. now--now he would never hurt you or say a bad word, mind, " Molly's concerned look growing as Lea's eyes were widened. "He just hasn't been out much at all. Just...be mindful."** **

****Lea looked down sadly as she began walking towards her bags to gather more weather-appropriate gear and grab a small bottle from her bag. She walked over and handed Mrs. Weasley the bottle as she began putting her hair up."Can you be a doll and rub this on the...lovemark? It will go away. Don't worry, I make this myself. I charge a pretty penny for it, so it's safe.** **

****Running a Scourfigy over her hands after she applied the creme, they sat for a moment as Lea went to grab her things. "I have it from here Molly. And...don't worry. I had a big Pureblood family like yours growing up, you know. They weren't as...kind to me. And so I learned that family doesn't have to be blood. I love your boys, and Ginny seems like a firecracker. I would defend any of them here as I would my own kin. I hope when things are less crazy, I can come over for a tea? If I'm not being too forward."** **

****Molly smiled. "Of course dear."** **

****"And can I say Molly, with the utmost respect to your wonderful family...I am just so glad that George and Fred were not in my year. I think my nights at the hospital would be three times as bad and four times as common."** **

**************** **

****After an awkward training session in which Sirius spent a little too long helping her figure out sit and hold the broom (something she said she had learned from a young age,t hey made the rules. Deciding thankfully that a two-on-two formation would be severely outmatched in skill, they decided instead on three Chasers vs. her as a Keeper; no Bludgers or Snitch.** **

****Lea managed to fly high enough and did a couple of spins (both horizontally and vertically) to determine she wouldn't crash in an instant. Her legs and butt were firmly seated but with enough wiggle room to allow her to tilt.. Sirius did tell the witch the instruction to release each of her legs, and with some practice Lea could release them individually. The issue was doing so quickly when a Quaffle was coming. It wasn't until about 20 minutes in, after numerous missed Quaffles she managed to do it quick-fire, using a shorter incantation and by the end of the hour, wet, dripping with sweat, she could release each leg wordlessly.** **

****The match between the three veteran Quidditch players was break-neck, each seeming to weave through and fight the others. Fred and George seemed capable of knowing each other moves, and with Sirius in the fray, even it seemed his long years captured hadn't lessened his prodigious skill on a broom. Someone who flew in motorcycles and on a hippogriff seemed to have a natural affinity for the air. Surely one Lea sorely lacked, but was impressed by nonetheless.** **

****At Molly's call that dinner was finished Lea sank low to the ground and squatted awkwardly on her broom until Sirius bustled to help release her and help her clamber down.** **

****The four Scourgified off what dirt and grime they couldn't knock off of their boots, and went inside. Fred had beaten them both by a close margin, though Sirius certainly said it was only his distraction by the charming Keeper that prevented him from scoring more.** **

****Eyeing him, she felt a bit uncomfortable by his sudden familiarity. But she surmised, he had been through a lot. She wondered deftly if it was healthy to sleep with a man who had been in prison for 12 years and then on the lamb. He hadn't been to reacclimate properly to society, hadn't become accustomed to the outside world. Fiercely, she also knew in her heart his crime was unjust, and that everyone deserves justice and love.** **

****_Calm down, Disney princess_. She pondered, as she sat at the table. ** **

****An hour into dinner, full of veggie stew and chicken for the guys, Lea had regaled them all with tales of wheelchair basketball and how she felt some of the rules could apply to inter-ability Quidditch matches.** **

****Once the dishes had been largely cleared, a dessert politely refused and ultimately eaten, and Sirius' third drink in the hour consumed, everyone was relaxed and retired to the living room to chat before Mr and Mrs Weasley Floo'd to the Burrow. She politely sat through Sirius' particularly dramatic tale of how Lea got the release incantations mixed up and managed to spin in a circle for a full twenty second before they could write her. Fred and George had cracked into another bottle of Firewhiskey, and were on their cups. Lea widened her eyes and looked at a furious Mrs. Weasley.** **

****Very graciously thanking Molly for coming, she clapped her hands to bring attention so she could have a good moment to leave. She then looked at the Firewhiskey bottle and declined any more citing "Two days in a row isn't my bag, one of us has got to stay sharp."** **

****As Arthur's green powder hit the floor on his way out, Fred was caught saying "Nonsense Lea you're in the best of hands, isn't she, Georgie boy?"** **

****Standing up beside his brother on either side he said. "The very best, Fred. She doesn't know she is dealing with two seasoned defensive Warlocks, ready to take on any challenge. The Order is well protected tonight."** **

****As they began play sword fighting with their wands, Sirius was looking at Lea eerily. He'd thankfully sat on a different chair, giving her some space. This time he came over and looked at her seriously and whispered in her ear with hot breath.** **

****"Will you come to my room tonight?" She had put her things in his room, but there was no unspoken guarantee.** **

****She looked over and his eyes were deep. There was longing, but moreover a different emotion she read as need. He needed someone tonight, and some part of her did too.** **

****"Yes, but I can't promise any--"** **

****He shushed her by putting his hand on hers and reassuring her.** **

****"Are you sure you don't need anything, darling?" His look broke her heart.** **

****"I'm tired, would it be okay if I went to bed?" Expecting him to get sad, she was relieved when his eyes warmed and he said , "of course, let me help you up". He refused to hear that she was a grown woman, damn it, and that she could get herself off to bed, but before she could finish her sentence he had already fished out her jacket, shoes, wayward socks, a drink of water and some fruit in case she got hungry in bed.** **

****"That's so funny." She said, as he bustled up the stairs after her.** **

****"What's that?" He said, smile on his careworn face.** **

****"I always bring fruit near the bed in case my blood sugar gets low at night. I don't know how you knew."** **

****He smiled at her. "Dunno. Call it a hunch." After making her ablutions with him standing patiently by the door of the bedroom instead of by the bathroom as his Pure blood roots certainly shown as chivalrous, she went off to bed, dressed and ready. She said, "If you tuck me in, I'm hexing your balls off, old man. And please leave the candle lit, sometimes I read ghost stories to make my nightmares worse. I can't have you sleep through the night, must keep you on your paws."** **

****He swept down and kissed her gently, holding it a second long. His lip twitched as if he wanted to say something but didn't. There was some familiarity in the way he cocked his head to the side when he looked at her. A funny feeling. She wasn't sure what, just...a hunch.** **


	17. Chapter 17

**January 26, 1992**

He sunk into her skin, his body melding where hers ended. The thick fabric of his frock coat pooled against bared legs and the soft pillowy fabric of her silk blouse. 

She pulled away from his insistent, persistent, consistent begging of her mouth, his pliant tongue reaching into every crevice and down into her core. 

She looked up, breath coming in quick, sharp bursts, and choked out, "I haven't...since..." 

His soft, pouted lips silenced hers. With a breath he spelled away his robe and levitated them onto the bed. _Wandless..._ she thought through the thick fog of arousal. _Fascinating._

As his cuffs were unbuttoned and she struggled on the ones near his neck, he swatted her away. With one hand holding her two small wrists in his he used the other to free himself of his blasted shirt. She wondered mutely why he didn't just spell it off, and understood this was at least part of the ritual.

By the time his pants were gone, so were her knickers, along with the rest of her inhibitions and fears. Licking softly near her ear, his tongue lightly danced over her sensitive lobes before moving down the sharp lines of her neck, to the soft crevice of her decolletage, to the valley between her soft breasts.

Taking one nipple in his mouth, his long, graceful hands came up to cup the other. He played cello with his hand, and twinned violin with his tongue. Between his attention on her nipples she quickly started to achieve arousal. He pulled away quickly, eyeing her with his fathomless black eyes. Not breaking eye contact and almost daring her not to look away, his face lowered to the swollen mons between her legs.

Moving to lightly inhale the musk of her arousal, he parted her labia and his long, thick tongue came to rest lightly on her clitoris. Eyeing her there, he did not move, as if daring her to ask for more. Staring at her, he started to withdraw his tongue and pull away.

" _Please_ ," she gasped. "Please don't stop."

"Perhaps you could be a little more...specific?" His tongue and lips rolled sensually over the s's, as if caressing their very form. Liquid inky black met stony, teary-eyed grey. 

"Please eat my pussy. Please...Sir...Please."

He jumped down and devoured her, losing all of his prior restraint. Her legs parted but he held them down with his free arm, using his other hand to come and lightly rub up and down her sex while he licked her clitoris with his tongue. 

He began to suck slowly and languorously upon her clit, while his finger rested lightly on her entrance. He stared at her. _I will own her...I will take every precious part of her...and make her beg to give it..._

"Please put...pu....PLEASE finger me. Or just fuck me." 

His finger crested into her, shoving upwards into her G-spot. She shivered. He began sucking very, very gently, almost reverentially on her clitoris while holding her firmly with one arm. The other , wrist-up, pounded into her bundle of nerves furiously, the pain causing her to nearly yelp with each thrust. As she started to reach her climax he looked at her and stopped. She started crying out.

"P-p-please..." she begged. "Please can I cum."

"Please...?" He looked at her, as if bored by her existence.

"Please, Sir...Master."

He started his fucking with his fingers again, but stopped with his tongue. "Cum."

She yelled out in release, his fingers pounding furiously. His hair was slightly mussed,and she could see his face hot and sweating with effort, his eyes full of lust.

"Good girl."

*****

**December 5, 1997**

There were only a few hours between when the Twins' left and Remus came over. It was in these few hours on that sunlit afternoon Sirius Black decided to pick their first hint of a fight. 

"Why have you been avoiding me?" 

"I'm sorry, Pardon?"

"Why have you been avoiding me," he said. "it's pretty simple. I'm not trying to be rude. You just...you are avoiding me." _Why won't she look at me? Does she regret me that much? I don't know why I ever thought I'd be worth more._

"I'm avoiding everyone." she said, suddenly seeming very interested in her feet. 

"I understand that," he said, sitting down at the kitchen table, head in his hands. He paused and looked back up at her. He absentmindedly pulled a pack of cigarettes ( _The Muggle variety, where did he get those?_ she wondered) and lit them with his wand.

She hated the smoke in the house, but it being his home, she didn't say anything. He did notice when she pulled away. 

"Hey, can you talk to me already?" she looked up at him wide-eyed at his response.

"I'm sorry, I--" she choked up and started to walk out of the room, stifling a sob.

Going from feeling indignant to in the shitter, Sirius Black quickly bustled out of the room to check on the crying girl. _And here I am trying to reach out, and you only make it worse. Good job you righteous git._

Running into the living room, he saw a soot-covered Lupin leaving the fireplace. "Remus!" they cheerily hugged, he looked over at the girl whose tears had already been dried and whose face was less red. Her skin had a lighter quality than before. He wondered internally if she had glamored herself. 

As Kreacher grabbed them tea, Sirius cut through it right to his friend. "Is everything alright?"

Remus Lupin set down his wine, his delicate hands fluttering to his lap nervously as he looked down at them, trying to determine how best to say this to his longest-living friend. "It's the Ministry. They've been pushing for a trial. " As Sirius started to internally freak out, Remus grabbed his hand.

"Calm yourself, Padfoot. Dumbledore managed to talk them out of a trial. He hasn't given us any details, He's been with the Wizengamot all week. It looks like he was able to provide them with information to keep you out of Azkaban. But they want you to come in for a statement next week."

Sirius started laughing. It started as a chuckle and finished with the loud, deranged laughing of a man who is panicked. "An Inquisition is it? Just a 'statement'? Pop in for a bit of tea and biscuits? Firewhiskey with the old Mugwump--"

"Sirius! Calm yourself." His friends voice only slightly quelled him, but the feel of a soft, small hand on his thigh and the look of liquidy, wide-set grey doe eyes looking at him drew him in. Reaching awkwardly across the two chairs, she stood up and still holding his hand, went to sit on his lap and physically calm him. 

Lea managed to fit on the side of the chair. Sirius put an arm around her and pulled her in, not minding the closeness. For his effort, Remus said nothing. The man was one of the most accepting and least judgemental people that Lea had ever met. She found his taste to be discerning and fair, saw why the man on whose lap she sat valued Remus' opinion so much and was so fiercely loyal. 

"Listen, there will be a questioning. But many people have vouched for you, they spent the week going to all of the members and have found laws looking for loopholes excusing your escape in Azkaban. You've already been found innocent, the issue is some old blooded wizards trying to decide if it's illegal to escape imprisonment on false evidence. You need to prepare mentally and go in. We will make sure that you are okay. Dumbledore just needs you to trust him."

Sirius could barely speak. He went to open his mouth when an insistent pressing and stroking at the base of his neck started to quiet him . She knew this spot--it was the analogous spot to the same one that made his leg kick when she had met him in his canine form. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body position relaxed. 

"Is that the secret then?" she said , giggling.

"What are you on abou'?" Sirius muttered gruffly, his head bowed towards his chest.

"The secret to shutting you up. The back of your neck."

The Animagus took his arm that was around her and squeezing her firmly by the hip, his thumb and index finger gripping firmly on the base of her bone and the fleshy underside of her bottom. "I could show you what spots I know on your body, _pet_ , but Remus hasn't watched me in quite some time--" She hit him gently on the back of the head and laughed. It was a love tap, hardly hard at all. They giggled and she relaxed down beside him as she scooted over on the oversized chair, giving her room to squeeze in closer. Sirius was too distracted to focus on how hot and cold she was blowing.

"Look this is super stressful but maybe it could be good." As the two men looked at her chagrined she said, "Alright well somebody has to be positive. I have a lot of experience with law stuff, both British and American, I can help you prepare."

They both stared at her. "It's my Mother."

"Your mother?" Lupin asked.

"You've never mentioned your family," Sirius said, looking at her. 

She stood up now and walked towards the table to grab her tea remnants, Vanishing it to replace it with water from her wand. "Well," she began. "My birth family wasn't...pleasant. So when I ended up going with my adopted family, there was a lot of ...hassle. Not to mention my Mother."

"Your mother?" the men said together.

"My Mother. I don't refer to my _'birth giver'_ as such as she lost that right." She practically spat it. "My Mom had a lot of trouble when we tried to travel to England. I was the one who helped familiarize myself with the law system to be able to allowed to get a Portkey."

"Why couldn't your Mother get a Portkey?" Sirius asked gently.

She looked at them dumbly. "Uh, because she's a werewolf?" they stared at her. "What? Were you familiar with my work at all?"

Remus looked a little floored. "I knew you were involved in a , a Potion involving werewolves but--"

"I helped create the preventative potion for Lycanthropy. When I was fifteen. Well my parents invented it, but I helped create and synthesize the final version that's popular worldwide. You can use Rugarou hair or werewolf hair to create a tincture that can be ingested after a werewolf bite that can prevent people from turning or other nasty side effects. My Daddy made the Potion trying to help Mom."

"But he failed?" Sirius asked. 

Seeing the sting in her eyes he instantly regretted his faux pax. But she continued on. "Well...yes, but also no. He failed at curing her lycanthropy, obviously but the preventative was an amazing potion that's saved thousands of people. I'm supposed to be synthesizing it again here, if I can ever find the supplies."

Sirius gazed at Remus, who looked uncomfortable. Lea knew of Remus' condition, but never felt the need to address it, figuring it wasn't her place to bring it up if he did not feel the need to. One of the things she learned from her Mother and affected the way she raised herself was to never treat anyone else differently if you can.

The men awkwardly changed the subject to news of the day, how Tonks was doing (Remus was bright red at this discussion) and Harry and the Order. It wasn't until she heard her name that Lea realized she had been staring off into the vacant space somewhere to the left of Remus' ear. "Pardon? Look at me staring. So rude."

"Yes, Geez, love, you think you'd leave a bloke for a friend at least go for the better looking of the two." She laughed in earnest at Sirius. 

"I was hoping I could see your stores. Professor Snape sent me to get a list of the supplies as McGonagall wont be able to come this week." Remus continued.

"Oh I'll miss Minerva! But of course no worries. Let me get my bag. Sirius will you mind us leaving for a tenner? I promise we'll return." 

"Well," he said, "I knew this was going to happen. They love the scars, isn't it Moony? Makes you seem dangerous."

"We can't all have your natural good looks, Padfoot." 

After going downstairs and ordering some of the basics she wrote on a list for Remus she said, "Remus there's one thing I need I can't get from Snape." He looked at her weareily.

"I...I am sure Snape can get any--"

"No. It has to be you." He looked at her gravely, fearing where this was likely going.

"I don't ever about your condition and...please let me finish. If you never want to talk about it again, fine. I cannot expect you to tell me anything you don't want to. But I have to ask. They're having me brew more Wolfsbane and more of the Homorphus Potion than ever before. I assume werewolf attacks are on the rise."

Remus Lupin could be a very patient man. It came well with a life spent constantly moving one place to another, tracking the hours and days in a month more fastidiously than some assigned females did. As such, he took his time to process this information.

"Yes." His eyes looked downcast and hurt. He would never tell her how he tried to reach out to the Werewolves the summer before and failed. That it was his attempt to bring them closer to Dumbledore that caused a blowup. And that the only reason he was at Hogwarts was to provide a liaison and point of contact for the many more children who would be entering into the school this next year with records of lycanthropy than ever before. 

"I want to make what they are asking. But Rugarou hair, the base of the Hormophus potion, is limitedly effective. It can be transfigured or duplicated, but it can make far less potion. It is expensive because of the travel and not native to this area. I know even for someone like Snape, this will be the hardest to source. And Rugarou are already being risk of being poached. Too many people think it is a fix-all. It is not. It is best-produced in areas in which the Rugarou are native and shed hair naturally...which here they are not." She gulped before continuing.

"I need your hair. A single trim of your hair can cover the potions we need twice as easily. If we shaved your body, loathe as I'm sure a certain brightly colored witch would be to that, we could cover our Rugarou hair supplies for a month. One liter of your blood, I could cover enough for the Order and all of Hogwarts for a year. It isn't a permanent solution, but if there is an epidemic coming it will come big. They come in waves. I have written on the cycle. Please, don't say yes or no, just think about it."

Remus looked concernedly for a moment before she nearly put her foot in her mouth. "I'm sorry for aski--"

"I'll do it." 

"What?" she said.

"I'll do it. Of course I"ll do it. I'll speak to Potions Master about...preparing what you need and have it brought back." He turned red at the mention of her name when he followed up with, "Tonks has been saying I've been getting a little scruffy anyway."

"Thank you Remus. You're saving more lives than you can know. Now, what did you want to talk about?", she asked. 

"You are a clever witch."

"Your ears turn red when you are nervous. You are a bad liar. I know because the same thing happens to me. I figured you had a two-part issue in coming down here."

"It's about Peter--Pettigrew."

She shivered at the name.

"He...he mentioned you. It seems in his spiel under Veritaserum, he let slip that there was some contingent of Voldemort looking for you. He was largely incoherent, but he kept mentioning 'the potion'. We can't tell you any more--Dumbledore's orders, it's best we keep things under wrap by now. But you should know why are being kept here and if it becomes long-term. They want to ask you to not leave during the duration of your stay at all. I know we've mentioned this, but it is paramount. I can't tell you any more; I'm sorry."

"Do you know more you're not allowed to tell me, or you don't think I should know? If it's the second, please understand, I can take it. I've been through worse than this."

"We...we have reason to suspect that they may know you are in some way involved with Sirius. Because Sirius is there is so much heat on Death Eaters, we suspect much of that danger may pass onto you."

"Wh...how? We've only....done stuff a few times. How would anybody even know?"

"I can't go into that yet. I don't know much more. I'm sorry."

"Why....why didn't you tell me this upstairs?"

He looked at her as if thinking, his long legs crossed at the ankle as he leaned against the tarnished wood of a table they used for brewing. He eyed his shoes, careworn-loafers, his grey sweater frayed at the ends over the top of a still-crisp blue and white striped button-up. 

"It's Sirius, isn't it?" She continued. "You don't want anything to distract him from the trial?"

"Not...not exactly."

"Then what?" she said, pointedly. "I'm not trying to be crass. This is specifically relevant to me and my safety. Do I have anything to worry from Sirius? Is he violent in some way? Is my safety in question?" 

He looked at her flabbergasted for a moment and set a hand just short of hers, showing camaraderie but respecting her aversion to touch. _He really understands, this man_. "Sirius would never be a danger to anyone he cares about--quite the opposite. He's an intensely loyal and protective man. If he knew you were in danger, we probably could not prevent him from going out and doing something to hurt his chances in the case."

"He would do that for me? We barely know each other."

Remus looked at her deeply, as if planning to tell her something than changing his mind. _What do you know, Moony?_ she thought, not thinking critically on how easily Sirius' nickname for his best friend fell into her mind.

"I don't like lying to people. I understand what you're saying, but he's not a child. And I feel weird treating him like one. If he's really that unstable, then should I really be seeing him?"

Lupin started--

"No, Lupin. Either he's a mature adult who can handle himself, and he and i can consent to healthy sex. Or he's incapable of preventing himself from violence and petulant idiocy, and therefore not mentally fit enough to consent to sex. They did the same to me at the hospital. I won't tell him anything, fine, but nor can I promise if he asks me directly will I lie to him. I will tell him exactly what you're saying now. I'm also a shit liar, for the record. Or I wouldn't have all these." She gestured at the scars peeking out from under her knee-length skirt

For the first time she saw the patient, kind man look mad. "Don't play that. He is not an idiot, nor is he a child. But right now is the worst possible time to tell him anything. Give it a few days, a week! But until then please, don't ruin the one chance he has at freedom." she saw tears forming in his eyes now and she uncharacteristically reached out first for a hug. Not fighting her, Remus snaked his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest inadvertently due to his great height.

He smelled like aftershave, vanilla, old books and warm wood. For her it was a comforting scent, reminded her of her father after long days in his study, reading together. She drew back with tears in her eyes. She felt guilty for her outburst but couldn't quite bring herself to apologize in all her shame.

"We should go back upstairs. I need to see how Sirius is doing. I...I can't."

For the second time that night, she ran out of the room with tears in her eyes, leaving a second Marauder feeling very confused and inadvertently guilty for making a fragile woman cry.

He went upstairs, grabbing the lists and leaving the supplies alone. He walked up to her on the couch curled into Sirius lap who was inadvertently stroking her hair as she buried her face into his lap. He was whispering nothings in her ear. Black had been equally confused when she ran upstairs in tears, but he was just happy at her choice to go to him for comfort. However, he did of course feel guilty it had to be under bad circumstances.

"I can't even talk to my parents and tell them what's going on. We chat multiple times every week and they won't even know if I'm dead."

He looked at Remus. "Remus, certainly you can pass a letter to her parents?"

Looking concerned. Remus said with grim determination. "I'm sure we can make that happen. One of the other Order members will be dropping in tomorrow, I'm sure. Very few people know about this for safety purposes. Why don't you pass it to them, and I will make sure it finds its way to them within the day."

She nodded glumly while further gripping the jean-clad thighs of the person beneath her. Remus nodded and said his goodbyes, jumping into the roaring emerald fire to two people clinging desperately to one another in the midst of a storm neither understood.

Hours later, when Sirius had brought her up to bed, she would sob into his arms as he kissed every part of her, comforting any part of her that was broken, whispering in her affirmations of love and affection while she let herself loose upon him, a maelstrom of emotion. For once, she didn't cry alone. For once, he soothed somebody's tears other than his own.

  
**************

His hands held her as tenderly as his heart held his love he didn't yet feel right to name. He caressed her from the tips of her toes to the stretches of her fingers, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Which he kissed and sucked and licked as a perverse Magdalene on the soles of Jesus , his hair drying the trail his sweat and salt had left.

Their bodies moved in time to the beat of their hearts and the sounds of their breaths playing symphony to the agony inside. The gentle, dull ache when she was away and when she was near.

Holding her from behind, she sobbed and withdrew into herself while he withdrew her into his greater self, one whole made of two broken beings.

He kissed her neck, her ears, he kissed every part she could reach as they both fell apart. They were on their side, he wrapped his right arm underneath her and pulled her closer into his warm, lithe body. His left arm snaked down and ran circles on her skin while she his breath whispered in her ear.

"It's alright, let go, come on pet...Relax into me...May I touch you?"

She nodded as his nimble fingers snaked further into her thighs, rubbing now her hips, her stomach, the cleft into between her breasts, as the caves between her breaths were filled with slight exhalations as her inhibitions slipped away.

Her tears stilled to light, gasping sobs as the wetness moved south of her body. His fingers now on her mons, now on her clit, small, small circles, now a stroke, now a smack. She jumped, a light little " _Oh_ " escaping her parted lips. He took his left hand and touched her wetness lightly, bringing it up to his lips and smelling deeply, growling as he did. She shivered. He lifted it to her nose. As she turned away he turned to her.

"Are you sure, pet? You smell so good."Sirius held it to her nose, she sniffed and he put it to her parted lips. she began licking tiny little strokes on his fingers before taking one of the digits into her mouth. He took his index finger and stroked her tongue in long strokes. The taste of her sex long since dissipated as he put another finger down her throat. Her mouth relaxed, he pushed as far as he could before he heard a gag. His fingers pulled out to grip her chin as he involuntarily growled and pushed his hips into her, his naked cock pressing against her hip.

Readjusting himself, he took his right leg and curled it inward around her ankles, trapping her within his legs. His left foot came to hold her left leg, slightly behind him, so her legs were spread _just so_ , him still holding her back.

He began stroking her again, this time his cock pressing directly against her from behind, his hips lowered to reach her in this position. He kept holding her chin and looked at her before gently placing his hand on her neck, no pressure, just sitting there.

When she looked at him openly, in adoration, eyes hooded with lust, his heart and his cock swelled. Grunting numbly, he gripped her neck more firmly with his right hand, his left going down to move up and down the cleft of her vagina. The labia spread between his index and middle finger, slicking up and down to rest at her entrance, dance in circles before repeating the same on her clit. Forced into position, she couldn't move as he danced figure eight's up and down her erogenous zone. First one way, now that. Pausing here, going faster there. The rhythm was discordant, throwing them back and forth, to and fro.

No orgasm was in sight, this was a game, a dance, a match of chess. It was only when she started crying in earnest, her whimpers nearly turning into howls that he took it as time to move forward, his own lust growing within him, his primal side melting forward. The Beast within him made him begin moving himself up and down the length of her sex from behind, her legs squished just tight enough around his cock, he rubbed against her stimulating her as his thick cock would move between the hot crease of her thighs and her mons.

He began slowly stroking her clit until she began to shake, holding her neck just firm enough to prevent her from moving. She was helpless in his arms. it wasn't until he bit her ear, growling in his own lust, struggling not to spill his seed early, that she started a small scream that was stifled as his fingers gripped the side of her neck. His hand gripped her left hip firmly now as he continued to slick his own cock back and forth between her entrance. Pulling himself slightly lower and readjusting, leaning her more fully against his weight, adjusting her from his arm to his chest, he placed himself at her entrance.

He grunted in her ear, she started nodding, both unable to form words of any substance. He shoved into her as much as he was able, which was not very far from this position, tightening her around him fully. His head, thicker than the rest of his shaft, was only just able to fit. He began incrementally pushing forward as he thrust in forward. From this angle she was an iron tight grip , hot and wet on his cock, him hitting the spot in her cunt that put stars in her eyes and made her nearly scream. Taking her again and again, he finally allowed himself to seat as much as he was able.

From this angle, he hit her cervix easily, the unpleasant jostling forcing him to readjust, not push into her fully, allow the tightness to focus mainly on his head and the middle few inches of his shaft. This was a game of slow gentle pressure, of sobs and grunts and raw, brutal hunger and lust. Their combined sweat and the smell of sex hanging hot in the air, he grunted loudly as he came into her, unable to hold himself.

The unexpected jolt caused his kegal muscles to clamp down on his penis, the shaking hitting her int he G spot and causing post-refractory orgasms to rock through her body as he still felt his release. Letting her sit there as he had long since cum, the small jostles of his softening cock still sending shivers down her spine, he continued to kiss and caress her and press the sweat from her brow.

" _Good girl_..." he whispered. "Go to sleep, relax, close your eyes, I'll take care of it, my sweet girl. Come pet, rest now, let me hold you."

Thankful again for the blessed relief of magic, he spelled them clean enough and fell asleep once again with the only bit of joy in his life in his arms.


	18. Chapter 18

**January 18, 1996**  
"It's a preposterous name."

"Well, you're not one to talk."

"Yes, but mine has a history. To be named after something so...common? Azalea--"

"Severus"...

"Gardenia---"

"I cannot help my foolish mother--"

" _Beauvais_ "

"SNAPE."

He smirked. The gentle rocking of the carriage ride was cut with the trail of the wind and the soft sounds of the flapping of the thestrals gliding. She suspected they were taking the scenic route. _Surely several miles by magical winged-horse flight can't take so long?_

After a moment of silence looking at her lap she said. "You shouldn't have read my paperwork."

He pondered before a single elegant ring finger came up and traced his lip before resting on his chin and making its way back to his lap. His hands folded themselves before rising up and then towards his chest, being folded as if in poignant thought before he spoke again. 

"Well, considering I was the one expected to be your _carer_ \---"

"Surely I could have taken myself home."

"Considering you needed my help down the trai--"

"You rather enjoyed that walk I remember. I've never seen you smile the entire time we've been talking so much as you laughing at my first stunted steps out of the hospital ward."

He smiled in earnest, his hair hiding his face. Could this man blush? It was a mask again. "I hardly call that galumphing trot with your crutches _walking_..."

"Well..." she said. "Thank you anyway. For assisting me with my....galumphing trot." 

He sniggered, saving his breath. She pulled a coat he had transfigured for her closer. They inadvertently scooted closer as Severus enjoyed these precious stolen moments.

********

**December 7th, 1997**

  
"You would put us at risk."

"We are already at risk".

"You even more so".

"...I won't tell anyone."

"You're not SUPPOSED to tell anyone." He raged. They sat. 

His foot tapped in time with the beat of his huffs, hot air out of wide flared nostrils down to a furious scowl. She smirked.

"I mean, you can't really stop me."

"Oh," he says leaning closer, "but I think you'll find _I can_."

They paused. She reached for the teapot, offering him some. He looked at her then looked away letting a deep sigh out of his chest, which she did not take as a no. 

She poured by hand, getting on her knees next to the squat table and using the leverage of her arm to lift the heavy pot. She poured him some then handed it to him. He took it from her, eyeing her.

"You make horrible tea."

"Kreacher made it. I think he pisses in it to be honest, to get back at us. Can't say I blame him."

A single lip twitch. _For him, that's nearly a guffaw_. she mused.

"You know my Mother was a Charms Master."

"I had heard your mother was an absentee debutante with a drinking problem."

Her eyebrow started twitching. _How does he know that? Of course my reputation would precede me._

"My birth giver was a lot of things. My _mother_ is a talented woman. She taught me a great many deals of concealing spells. She has to know how to hide scars, given her....predilection."

ea well considered what she had heard in whispers, that it was Snape who outed Remus and endangered his life and livelihood years before. Lea knew there was some unspoken hatred and childhood enmity between the two, and had heard inklings from multiple people. However the full extent of which, she did not know.

"If I went--"

"There is no IF. You will not endanger our entire operation for this schoolgirl _crush_."

She didn't say what she was thinking, that he could probably see on her face, as if it wasn't made obvious in the presence of whose home they were sitting. That it had far progressed from a 'crush'. 

"If I attempt to go, you restrain me as you would obviously do, and hold me still with magic, they would obviously know when they went home . You could try to Obliviate me, but given how fragile my mind is and how little you've used Legilimency on me--as least as roughly as before , so as not to have been noticed-- it's unlikely you would do so." He looked at his hands as if he didn't hear her, Lea's words passing over him like noise from passersby on the street. But in the way his left hand gripped slightly on his thigh, fingers bruising white, or the rough barring of his teeth, she knew he had heard everything .

She lowered her voice and said. "Sirius is a maniac, and if he comes home and I am restrained or all is not well, and he starts a fight and you have to attack him, it would not spell well for the Order or _Harry_."

"Don't you dare bring that spoiled little--"

"You know I'm right. I told him I would try to be there, regardless. It will be worse for him if I'm not."

"And you expect him to know you are there under cover, a man who--"

"I have a smell Severus. We both know most enchantments don't apply to smell."

"....And what makes you think others would not be privy to this information?"

"Have you been telling our enemies my body wash, Severus? It's changed since that time. Unless there's some other nefarious new method I've been kept aware of, in which case--"

"Put on your coat you insolent chit. You have 5 minutes, no more, and I will apply the charms regardless of how 'talented' you think you are. If you say so much as one word, I will Imperius you and take you back here and _Do not think I am bluffing, or that you would dare to say anything_."

He was standing over her now, her seated on the couch. Her eye level met his crotch. _Well that's one way to get attention_ she thought, trying not to chuckle. Men didn't seem to take it kindly when you laughed in the general direction of their penis. Lea couldn't imagine why.

"Professor, could you--" he stormed away, leaving her laughing in his wake. She went to do her ablutions and summoned a traveling cloak to her self to wait by the door. As soon as she stepped out of the room, Lea saw a man standing in front of her she did not recognize. She raised her wand on instinct. "Don't you dare, foolish girl. Stand here." The short, rounded, dark-skinned man led her to a corner of the living room closest to the door. He pointed his wand at her, as she felt a cold trickle go down her skin. 

Soon afterwords she looked down transfixed . Her hair was shorter--darker. Spiky on her head. _Like Harry's..._ she thought with a smile. Her features become pointier, longer. Her olive skin developed a more sallow yellow-tone. Her body became thinner with the height, losing all of her soft curves. She looked over at the short man. She was taller than him now, about an inch above him. 

_Must not make a sound. Must not laugh._ The angry-faced man pointed a wand at her dress, formerly soft and flowing rose gold, now an ill-fitting pants suit often worn by the more matronly of Pure Bloods in a dull blue. 

"I look like somebody's angry grandmother. It's perfect. Shall we go, uh?"

"Melton Camerell."

"Melton. Okay. I'll be Anastasia Beaverhousen."

He nearly hexed her. "Not only does it start with the same letter, you nearly end up choosing something somehow STUPIDER--"

"Calm now Melton. Certainly you should match your exterior? Today, _I_ am the stubborn authoritarian, and you are the coquettish spritely Potions assistant, ready to both vex and hex you.

"Nice _Dissimulo Adversus_ by the way. Mine comes out similar, but I always end up getting the hair wrong. I don't look kindly with a mullet--" he grabbed her at the door and they popped out of existence and towards Diagon Alley. He silenced her quite literally with a wave of his wand arm, now hidden under his slim-fitting tan robes.

They contrasted with his skin and if anything the poorly-fitting demeanor of them made him almost a pain to look at, as if something about him was off in a way that attracted little attention. Plain, boring, a little ugly, but not so much as to be an eyesore. She had the same affect. _Brilliant._

It was difficult to walk today without her cane. The brisk winter air chilled her skin and barely was able to keep her warm underneath the chafing fabric he had transfigured. In addition, stress could aggravate both magical and Muggle illnesses. They walked into the Leaky Cauldron and through to an open fireplace. "Ministry of Magic" a very gruff and almost nasally voice said. Having to squat behind him, she thought of how poorly she had prepared for this in hindsight, as her voice wasn't even something she had thought of until now. In her best British voice, came out "Ministry of Magic". She arrived a second later than him and started walking forward confidently as if she had any idea where she was going.

The short man firmly grasped her arm. "Follow me, imbecile", in that nasally voice. _I wonder how different he would be perceived if that change were permanent_. she wondered.

***************

Sirius remained sat upon the cold stone of the chair, his hands and feet buckled into magical restraints and cuffs thicker than the width of his palm, shackled tightly to where even itching his nose or readjusting a foot in his shoes would prove impossible. He had nearly growled when they pulled out restraints, only for Professor Dumbledore sitting on the council to give a soft _ahem_ of clearing his throat, for the chain to be released and spelled limp beneath the high-backed chair.

Up above there sat the entirety of the Wizengamot, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones , the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and his assistant the twitchy unpopular Weasley, and many other people he could not see. Both above him surrounding on all sides were Aurors he could not see, as well as folks in hoods he highly suspected were Unspeakables. Sirius found himself mutely grateful that there had been no Dementors, he suspected he might have bolted if that had happened or been so mute as to render himself incapable of speech. Dumbledore he figured had been at play at that. 

Towards the left above them, were the few spectators allowed in. He suspected the few family members of those affected by his supposed 'crimes' as a 'Death Eater'. The crowd was shrouded in darkness in his left periphery, and it was the folks in front of him in which he sat and stared forward at.

He tried to sit with as much pride and politeness as 12 years of anger, hatred and fear and being bolted in place could allow. His goatee was cropped short, his hair perfectly curled with the one gray stripe in his dark hair adding to his mystery. The young Healer had attacked him that morning at 5 am--where he would have been sleeping, if he had slept--by dragging him out of bed, forcing him to shower and handing him a variety of products she insisted he wear in his hair. Before had even finished drying off, he was ushered into his room, sat down, primped and prodded with various creams in his face, elixirs in his body.

There was a charming wooden box of clothes he had not seen before. "Gift from Dumbledore" was all she said. A note from the Headmaster very firmly insisted he wear any of the included items. Not bothering to negotiate--he was in desperate need of robes from the last decade--he took the gift. He settled on a dark plum, satin-finished dress shirt with an olive, brocade vest beset with ornate silver buttons and black filigree. 

The slim-fitting pants were cut in the wizard style and all-button, with polished dragon-skin dress shoes and a dark black coat cut with light silver piping up the sides. He would have yelled out of skin he would like a 'Slytherin cunt' in all that green and silver but was nearly yelled out of the room by the young witch saying if he was late, his balls would be there with or without him. He was familiar enough with the Muggle concept of fixing pets--he had it screamed at him nearly enough times running out of this or that trash can while on the run.

So here he was. Scrubbed, fit, primped, very masculine, naturally handsome. With an air of nobility but still with some humility there. All the grace and manor deserving of the last of a line of noble Wizards, he did not at all resemble the haunting, frightening, gaunt-eyed man many of these people had come to know him as from his Azkaban picture. After hours of conversation, going over and over his many accused crimes, they were at a verdict. It wasn't a trial--not that he had ever had a proper one--but it was definitely an Inquisition. 

They had determined that while having received no proper trial and there being hardly sufficient evidence and him having been innocent, he still escaped from prison and therefore disobeyed the law. Wizarding law was, in many ways, archaic, compared to its Muggle counterpart, from what he knew of it. Sirius felt cold, clammy, empty as he had in some days just out of Azkaban or stuck in Grimmauld Place. His heart spiked noticing he didn't hear them speaking. All he had heard was blood rushing past his ears. Above him, Minister Fudge continued.

"...so it is within the best interest of not only the Wizengamot, but also, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the greater Wizarding community, and the world as a whole that despite the overwhelming evidence to the impropriety--" Amelia glared over her seat at the Minister, who changed course immediately.

"--who have decided _mutually_ to allow this special Council headed jointly by Amelia, the Wizengamot, and myself. And thus we concluded to allow Sirius Black to remain free and....not guilty--" there were shouts now from the crowd, fighting, the Aurors had to lean forward to quell a man who screamed and went to run down, his wand drawn. 

A banging of the gavel by Fudge shut them up. _That man wields that thing like a first year alone in their four poster for the first time,_ Sirius thought. Fudge appeared to him as if a large indignant child blustering about to be in charge of this ridiculous excuse for justice.

"Now that we have calmed," Fudge intoned, sweating even more under his boiler hat under which his gray hair was plastered to his forehead. "Sirius Black shall remain free WITH several caveats.

"Caveat the first. Sirius Black must remain in good faith with the Ministry, during which he shall commit no crime, Muggle or Magical, no matter how small or large or intone any offense to the greater Wizarding community that could result in an arrest.

"He will have no claim to his funds, his property or any other titles bequeathed to his name until the end of a year. After that year, he will come again for a review by this board. If at the end of that time he has proven in good standing, his rights including all of his titles, properties, funds and roles will be returned to him in full. "

There was grouching and some quiet sobbing from the crowd, but the overall murmuring and yelling was stopped as Sirius sat transfixed at the small man high in front of him sweating down through his thick robes now, despite the chill of the room. 

"During this year, he will need to be the ward of a member In Great Esteem within the wider Wizarding community who can vouch for his care, assist with his reconditioning for society"-- _Do they think I'll piss on their legs in public?_ Sirius mused"--and contain for Mister Sirius Orion Black all of his funds, responsibilities and needs as per the reasonable care expected of one of his station.

"During the course of this year, he will ensure to make regular appointments and check ins with the Aurors who will be responsible for checking on his whereabouts. They shall make sure he is respecting the law as well as check upon his progress into reintegration into...polite society. After which Sirius Black will be allowed go into public and should he decide so, enter into business or interpersonal arrangements, providing they are in accordance with the law. This decision by the Wizengamot is final, and will reinstate henceforce from the conclusion of this sentence." He banged the gavel , a little too gravely. 

From quiet to chaos. At once the shackles around his wrists and ankles dissipated, he ran a hand through his hair before cracking his neck, his other hand going up to scratch that damn spot on his nose he'd been cursing for the last hour.

The sound was deafening. _How many people were even up there_? Sirius wondered. It sounded a mutiny--even the Wizengamot, Aurors and other staff members at the ministry seemed to be fighting amongst themselves. Moody glared down at him from the stands before knocking someone in the head. A tall thin woman who had begun yelling "Throw him in prison--he once stole my good socks, the layabout!" in a very awkward and stilted and very obviously bad impression of British. The woman was cuffed by Moody and nearly dragged out before a shorter man grabbed her and they left together, arm-in-arm.

Sirius glared at the spot where the woman had left, through the throng of people being ushered out of the courtroom. _Who is that woman_ He pondered before it clicking. _She wouldn't.._.

Before he could even process what had happened, he was immediately walked into an anteroom to the courthouse to sign a variety of parchments he didn't bother to read. Somewhere to his left, the soft hand of Albus Dumbledore sat on his shoulder, as Dumbledore grabbed several scrolls and started signing. It wasn't until the last, very long scroll after initialing for what felt like hours numbly on script so tiny he could barely even read it, that Sirius realized what was happening.

Albus was signing off as his representative. That would explain his need to be there, and the way they might still yet protect Order information. _He would have a solution, wouldn't_ _he?_ When the last parchment was to be signed, a small blade was presented by a shaking representative, during which Albus picked it gently, pressed it lightly to his thumb, and a small drop started pooling around the tip.

He then pressed his thumbprint to a round mark next to his signature on the scroll.

He held knife the Sirius' hand, who quickly swiped it and pressed it to the page. Both the knife and the quill as well as all of the contracts disappeared from the table in a puff of red smoke. There were several perfunct congratulations and far too much small talk on the part of Dumbledore about Quidditch matches, and they were allowed to leave. 

Feeling numb, Sirius vaguely remembered being ushered into another small room during which they were allowed to Apparate directly to a forest clearing . Dumbledore took Sirius' hand in one arm, looked at a stopwatch.He waited exactly 43 seconds before Apparating again, this time directly to the living room of Grimmauld Place.

"Sirius", yelped a very exasperated and very-mussy haired Lea in surprise, wearing a soft rose-gold dress, with shoes and a robe thrown haphazardly beside her. A very sallow-faced Slytherin sat on the couch, who quickly stood and Disapparated as soon as the others arrived. Just those two and Dumbledore now, it was as if in a dream. _Is that it?_ he wondered. _Is this real? Will I wake up?_


	19. Chapter 19

**December 13, 1997**

  
Thick cock on her tongue and it made him feel young to be pressed up against one so nubile and so fun. Swished around side to side, up and down, spit could glide on the pattern of his membrane of his member and the planes of his skin beneath her ministrations and she played it like a game.

Her words said nothing but her throat just moaned. Every flick of her tongue made him close his eyes and hiss before grabbing the back of her neck more forcefully, other hand holding her jaw. She was still out of practice, but delved back into it easily. Sirius appreciated she felt more comfortable with him, and used it to his advantage while not pushing the envelope. 

"We're going to finish early if you keep that up love"--he said, pulling her jaw up as his cock slid out of her mouth, leaving a slight popping sound and slight trail of spit in its wake.

"Good. I have loads to do. Speaking of." As she shoved his cock back into her mouth he could only moan , "Gods". Her pace picked up and his hands relaxed on her face, one going behind his head but was quickly replaced by gripping the bedsheet as her pace picked up. She stuck her tongue in front of her bottom teeth and sucked her top lip in above her top teeth, causing a vacuum with the friction of her mouth that wasn't impeded by her consistently faster motions. His hand lazing near her gripped her more forcefully now as he jackhammered into her, Lea's choking sounds not abating until he released himself into her with a growl of pleasure and bid her to stay there as she sucked it all up.

Quickly sitting up and pulling her face to him he looked into her eyes. "Are you alright, love? I haven't been that rou--" Shekissed him hungrily, his seed pressing into his lips. Sirius licked it up greedily, his tongue diving into her mouth as he helped her up with his arms to sit on his lap. 

They kissed for a long moment until the only taste was the shared saliva of their joined mouths. 

"Most guys are uptight about that." Lea said, stopping for breath

"I ate rats, love. I promise you, I would have killed a grown man to taste anything on a woman's lips after that."

She smirked. "Go get ready, people will be here soon and I have things to do."

"Kreacher can do that--

"I got it", she said forcefully, sitting up. She rolled off of the bed and pulled back up her skirt that hadn't been completely discarded in their early afternoon romp. She had spent several days in his bed, and was starting to get ansty. Lea was used to a certain amount of space, and the close-quarters were getting on her nerves. It had been several days since the news of his release. The story luckily hadn't yet hit papers, for how long, he didn't know.

Since that time Sirius had been even more volatile, going quickly in mood swings and his drinking had originally been celebratory but it wasn't until Thursday when he saw her physically withdrew when he drew out a bottle that he took the hint and put it away til that weekend's festivities. 

Lea had not wanted to correct or dull the man who was still dealing with a lot, and she herself was so busy with preparing batch after batch of bulk potions for the Order that the few moments they spent together she did not want to spend fighting. 

The Healer knew it was a commonality in Britain, but house elves made her uncomfortable. "Poppy said it's good exercise to do things for myself and to not become reliant on magic or on house elves for my movements. It's the only way to become as healthy as I can. Believe me, I need the exercise." He softened at hearing this. It wasn't untrue, she just really didn't want to press the issue. 

Sirius reached over to lazily smack at her bum from his vantage point on the bed as she went to reach for her shoes. "If you come back here and let Kreacher do his job, we can get plenty of exercise..."

"People get paid for jobs, Sirius." she muttered. Swatting his hand away. 

Sirius glowered for a moment, his post-orgasmic bliss quickly dissipating. He stared at her bum for a moment as she readjusted her blouse within her skirt, it slipping back down over her bottom. "When I agreed to date a mouthy witch, I didn't intend for it to mean _this_ kind of mouthy..."

She laughed genuinely and he smiled, glad of the ease of their banter in awkward moments. "Well, you're a free man now, or just about, Sirius Black. You can find many other, less mouthy witches to lay with." She continued laughing but his eyes darkened slightly.

Black stood up now, naked as a bird and not even slightly phased by it, his hair mussed and his body still sweaty from where they lay. He walked over to her. "Are you trying to get rid of me that easily? Now that I can go in public, you want to withdraw, is that it?" He said it in a mocking tone, meant to possibly sound humorous, but it came out bitter.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lea questions. "I'm just saying you _can_. We can even pick up women together. We're probably both very rusty." He smiled now, a hand raising to push hair out of her face before lightly gripping her chin, his other arm snaking around her as his weight pushed her into the wall behind her. He deepened their kiss, his hand going to fist in the back of her as he growled into her mouth and kissed her more forcefully.

When she let out of a muffled squeak, he pushed his thigh in between her shorter legs and pushed them open, rhythmically jamming his thigh against her sex while she was stuck there. Sirius pulled away suddenly opening his eyes . He gave the small woman an endlessly deep look she couldn't register. He nipped her ear and growled, then let her go, leaving Lea flustered and confused. He walked away, pompously as though wearing finest robes and not stark naked. She imagined an older dog nipping a young one on the ear for playing too much. 

"At least you didn't pee on me to mark your territory, I should suppose," she said aloud. Sirius had grabbed pants on the ground and was pulling them on as he spoke.

"I have to save something for our first proper date, love."

********

Two hours later and it was the twins, McGonagall, Lupin, Tonks, and all three of the Golden Trio squished into the kitchen. The dining room would have been better suited, but finding that large austere room depressing, they opted instead for the cozy kitchen long since outfitted in earth tones, charmed to stay warm year-long, and complete with a more modern (though used) table and chairs.

Though sad the rest of the Weasley's were otherwise occupied, Sirius was so overjoyed to have Harry there and his other friends it was the first genuine time Lea had seen him laughing full-bellied all week. She was feeling anxious in the crowded kitchen, but glad to at least have some familiar faces there. She quickly sought Minerva with her eyes when the talk turned to Quidditch and tried to leave as quickly as possible. She enjoyed their short broom play, but Lea still was no sports fan.

As the two women settled into the library, grateful for the reprieve, they set about cozying up with their cups of tea. Minerva took her Darjeeling with two scoops of sugar and Lea, her Earl Grey plain.

They caught themselves up to speed on the newest Hogwarts news of the day, any missives from Poppy, how the staff was faring, and Minerva's least favorite subject, how Minerva was doing personally. 

"I'm doing as well as can be expected", she smiled brusquely. 

The silence drew between them for a moment as all they did was sip their tea, gazing off into the fire of the reading room, charmed to brighten the dark place teeming with the remnants of the Dark books not yet removed. Lea looked over them loosely, pining to go inside their depths but knowing many of them hadn't yet been looked through for Curses, and that many might judge her looking through them. 

_There's an old inkling. What is it? What does it mean?_ Ignoring her weird feelings, Lea pressed on. "Do you remember the teacup?" 

Minerva looked confused. "Pardon?" In her thick brogue.

"The teacup. We had discussed transfiguration when I was trying to get my feet wet again with magic." McGonagall just stared at her.

"I can't believe you don't remember this, " Lea said, laughing now. "We discussed Gamp's Law, and you mentioned a good source book you had read on it. When you left your drink at the end of the meeting, It took me a week to figure out why that teacup we couldn't magic away kept reappearing." Lea was nearly in tears now.

"I swear the entire staff went crazy, every time they removed it, it came back. It wasn't until I pointed my wand at it and said the incantation you and I had discussed that it turned into that same source book! Child's play!" Lea laughed heartily at the infantile joke between burgeoning friends and colleagues, grinning thinking about how it had vexed the Mediwitches at St. Mungo's.

"What are you talking about, Lea? Are you alright?" McGonagall looked concerned.

"Minerva, what's going on? I'm fine? Do you not remember this?"

"Dear, I think you are getting mixed up. Are you feeling a bit peckish?"

Lea stared at her, bewildered. Her and Minerva had spent months together, nearly weekly meetings at the hospital that started as professional interest and ended in a great friendship that continued during their time at Hogwarts.

"Ms. Beauvais, Lea, you and I did not meet until you started here in late July."

Lea sat there, stock still, the reality of what was hitting her shooting through her mind. Minerva, recognizing her need for better medication from the staff. Minerva, helping her by supplying books and other mind-game puzzles to challenge her while she was convalescing. Minerva, reading silently by her bedside--

Something seemed to snap internally. Realizing she was being stared at. "Come to think of it Minerva, I think I must be getting you mixed up with another staff member. It's been a long day, between Sirius and these Weasley men and the up to 15 potions I have to brew daily, I feel a right sort." She smiled, going back into the part of herself. _Is my mind slipping? I can't be going crazy._

Before she could fully go into her reverie the door burst opened with an excitable Sirius there. "There you are, pet. Hello, Minerva, dear--would you ladies like to accompany me inside? The meeting is about to start, and I cannot wait until it is over, Molly made shepherd's pie." Smiling at her favorite, Lea jumped up and tried to beckon Minerva into the kitchen. "Will you be joining us for supper and drinks afterwards? We have to celebrate his new-found freedom."

"For a time, of course".

  
****

  
All seated around the table, they were the momentarily interrupted by two loud CRACKS as people Floo'ed in. The two missing members of the Order--Dumbledore himself, smiling genially, and a VERY incensed Severus Snape. The man always radiated heat and black energy, but something about him was particularly snarking, sniveling and batlike, in Sirius' approximation. Black knew mutely that of course he would have to be there for the meeting part of this evening, but certainly being apprised of the evenings festivities as a celebration for Sirius, Snape was set on edge more than usual. Even Sirius wouldn't let the glowering man ruin his fun today.

  
Mad-Eye slipped in behind them a moment later. Making a beeline past everyone there, he scooted forward and immediately grabbed Lea by the scruff of her robes, his staff pointing directly at her head as he said, "C'mere, you" and started roughly pulling her from the room.

There was some general yelling, including from Sirius who loudly spoke "Mad-Eye what is the meaning of this, you'll hurt her--" 

"This little varmint, this little mongrel here--"

"Quiet." Albus said, not having to raise his voice. The room quickly stopped as even Moody turned to look at him, not loosening his iron-grip. "Allister? Perhaps you could follow Ms . Beauvais to the library and have your discussion politely? I'm certain she will happily walk of her own accord." Staring at her before casting a particularly nasty look towards Snape,Moody released her and beckoned her to follow him out first. Albus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder, who went to stalk out of the room and shot the only angry looking glare towards the old man that Harry had ever seen gestured in his direction from Sirius. It quickly softened to one of impatience. 

"Albus--"

"They are fine, Sirius. Merely following up on a discussion I wished them to have and I'm certain Allister insisted on. No harm will become of them, I'm sure. I imagine you have found Ms. Lea is particularly...hardy." He nearly winked at Sirius and Harry nearly spit out what he was drinking across the room.

"I knew it." 

"Pardon, Harry?" Molly said.

"Oh Harry was just discovering Lea and Sirius' new physical past time. Perhaps now that he's got wind of it, he'll loosen up and get his own gi--"

"FRED." She screamed. "What happens between two adul--"

"I think you'll find we're hardly spring schoolboys, Mum." George smiled. "We taught Ron about the birds and the bees 1st year , right after--"

Arthur stepped in to de-escalate the fight as the Potions master seemed more annoyed than before, sinking further into the darkest corner he had managed to find--the one it seemed had missed their anti-depression decoration binging of the summer before.

  
Once everyone had settled and general Order business gotten underway, Lea re-entered looking like she had been positively harangued by the experienced Auror. Both of their respective limps were filled with more annoyance than before. _An emotional limp, what an interesting thought,_ Sirius had, getting distracted and quickly turning his eye back to Albus. All the chairs around him were full already. _Certainly you can go one meeting without sitting immediately next to the girl, can't you Padfoot, you lovesick fool?_ He thought to himself.

****

The Order meeting was fairly common: News updates from the field, goings on at the Ministry, how the Hogwarts students were faring. There was one major update they needed to address--Sirius. Sirius' release had been pushed out of the paper for as long as possible, but would be hitting the Daily Prophet any day now. Fudge could only oppress the paper so much, and they needed as much time as possible to get his case settled free of public influence.

Sirius was still on watch by Death Eaters, and would be for some time. Fpr now, he was asked to stay at Grimmauld Place--an audible load growl from master of the house while a hardly repressed snort was heard by Snape--

"Just until things die down after the holidays--" Albus continued Snape roled his eyes at this as Sirius continued to glare at the great bat looming in the corner behind Dumbledore. "However, I am certain Molly wouldn't begrudge you a short stay at Burrow for Christmas?" 

Molly nodded. "Yes Sirius, we would love it if you could come see us. I think that can be arranged.Harry will be there."

"Of course, Molls! " He nearly jumped up to hug her as the other Weasleys and the Golden Trio cheered.

"Will be lovely to have you Sirius, she continued.

"Everone is welcome, of course, " Molly said. "I do hope we'll see you Remus, Tonks." 

"We'll have to see about that Molly, but of course we'll try our best to make it. " 

Harry smiled. "You'll get to join us for Quidditch! Ms. Beauvais, will you join as well, I'm sure we can squeeze you in a in a spare room--"

"Uh, Harry." she said, smiling. "I wouldn't want to impose--"

"Nonsense." Molly said. "You'll be coming and that's that. I can't stand the thought of you all cooped up here all alone. Besides," she said smiling. "You somehow manage to keep Sirius in tact enough to not burn the place down while I'm cooking, that's payment enough." 

Severus Snape nearly stamped his feet in exasperation. Sirius smiled like this was the best day of his life, the anger fuming in the taller man's eyes the best Christmas present he could receive short of Molly's invitation itself.

"No promises." Lea said, smiling with her eyes. "Uh, you were saying, Professor?" directing the conversation back to the Order members at hand.

 _Always so genial_ , Sirius thought. _That witch could be quite the politician. Good with her tongue in more ways than one_. His eyes darkened as he looked in her direction and thought of their encounter that morning. Rather than sate him , it had left him hungry fro more. And it was with this thought he sough to punish her-- _just_ so--to make her curious for more and hungry for his attention. All above board, of course. He would never hurt the witch. Much.

As he looked over he noticed the Potion Master regarding him before his eyes widened slightly, then lowered into slits.

He stalked out of the room, banging the door in a flurry of robes behind him.

Dumbledore took this as the close to the meeting--he was done anyway--and folks split off for smaller groups. Either to chat, dig into the informal dinner, or go have shorter meetings from smaller missions or from the more experienced Order members. 

Most of the parties split off, leaving the kitchen for the more comfy dining room. It was mainly Tonks and Lupin in a corner. Sirius was going ot walk over to say hello, but he saw Lea standing in corner, staring at what looked like the wall, hunched over slightly. _Strange bird,_ he thought, walking up and slinging his arms around her, his hair leaning across her face, he whispered in her ear. "Been waiting for you, lov--"

Before he could finish, he heard a shriek, followed by a loud BANG. He felt himself fly across the room, then all was black.


	20. Chapter 20

**CW for kinky sex, light dubcon elements, REFERENCED beastiality, and some primal play and trauma discussion.**

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckcfuckshitnotagain. "_ FUCK", Lea yelled, as Lupin and Tonks jumped onto the body of their passed-out friend to make sure he was okay, and she felt half the house running over and the screaming of Walburga from the next room. _"Bastards, traitors, sins of my flesh, come into my Home and pollute it--"_ she heard it being shushed by some unknown people as Snape's head peered into the door. he looked at an aghast Lea with her arms held up, palms facing outward, to the body of Sirius passed out across the floor, back to her. They were a good few meters apart.

"It-it was an accident," The Healer said to the Potions Master.

"Shame if it was," he said looking at her, dry-eyed and dry-tongued. She managed to squeak out a small, nervous smile. As half the Order came plugging into the room, he grabbed her arm quickly and she was dragged out by Severus Snape, up two flights of stairs and into a small bedroom she had not been in before. He waved his wand as she felt him probing for--dark curses? wards? and felt the tell tale _hum_ as the door wordlessly closed and locked behind them and the room was muffled and presumably, warded.

"I...he came up to me and surprised me. He just--"

"If you expect that I came in here expecting a diatribe on the ways Sirius Black likes to grope women, I think you will find I am less than enthused." She looked at his dark eyes. Snape's dark circles looked deeper than before. Her eyes furrowed with concern, but she knew better than to try to ploy him with any sign of caring--he'd likely insult or shut her down.

Severus quickly changed the subject. "There are new updates I needed to share with you the Order didn't need to hear."

Lea stared at him expectantly. Not acknowledging that she was at least quiet, he strode forward and moved half a step towards her. She braced, then relaxed instinctively. Snape reached out and lightly touched her chin. "Look at me." He said. without inflection or rudeness. Clinically, Detached. She looked up at him. Lea didn't feel the familiar pinch. Either he wasn't reading her, already knew everything, or he was too soft in his intrusion for her to notice. Maybe all three in some extent.

"How have your powers been?" he said, dropping his hand from her head.

"Pardon?"

"Your powers?"

She thought critically. "I , uh, normal. Everything has been fine. I've been feeling...good. Tired from working but that's to be expected. I mean...I've been scattered... forgetful...but no...what the fuck do you call them? Outbursts? You still haven't told me what was wrong. Am I in danger Professor? Are others?"

"Not if you stop babbling and do what you are told." She looked up at him, studied him for a moment, and then nodded. He eyed her critically for a long moment.

"Okay, and what is that supposed to be Master Snape?"  
Seeming to grimace at her use of the word _"Master"_ , Severus continued on, his voice softer. He seemed to be debating something. "Just...stay here until school starts. We will have you back a week after school begins. It will continue as normal. You will be updated after Christmas as to what you are doing."

She gazed up at him, a question in her eyes.

"Yes, they are searching for you. No, I will not tell you anymore. Just stay here. Here you are...safe." His voice seemed to turn sour and his face turned equally sour. "Don't leave the home unless it's an emergency, Announce it to another Order member. Bring the dog with you, if you must."

Lea walked forward, their bodies almost pressing and looked up at him. "You act as if I'm in more danger than Sirius. More danger than Harry, even."

Snape looked at her dumbly, as if she had walked so far past the point it had smacked her in the face so hard she whipped around to face it again.

"Oh." She said, realizing. "Well...thanks."

Severus looked at her quietly, then nodded. He started to walk away. His lack of rude comment and his quiet demeanor never stopped to unnerve her, yet in a weird way, invigorated her. Figuring this was appropriate a time as any to no longer stand in a bedroom awkwardly alone, she started to walk towards the door after him, when he stopped, blocking her exit.

Snape turned back around and looked at the petite woman. His hand rested on her shoulder, tilting her chin upward with one long, white finger. "If you continue on this road, you will be hurt. And I will be powerless to protect you." She looked at him, bewildered, unsure what he meant. His voice was nearly a whisper at the end.

"I-i..." before she could even struggle out a sentence, he walked from the room, Disapparating right outside the door. _Somehow_ , she mused, _that was only the_ second _most confusing interaction I've had all day._

Snapping back to reality, she ignored the growing anxiety-based pain in her legs and ran downstairs to the kitchen. Lea walked in to a very-harassed looking Sirius sitting sullenly with a concerned-looking Molly and Ginny and Hermione fussing over him, Tonks and Lupin in the background.

He shushed them away when he saw his beau and walked over to her hurriedly.

"Sirius I'm so sorry I was surprised, I never mean to--"

"Shhh. It's fine, doll. I should not have surprised you. If anything, I should be impressed. That's a hell of a defense mechanism if another bloke ever wants to get handsy." She took out her wand to look him over and he stopped her. "I'm fine, no worse for wear, ask Remus"--the werewolf and his oldest friend nodded--"look at me. Are you alright, love? What did the git want?"

She looked briefly at the other Order members as their eyes averted and they suddenly became very interested in rearranging the kitchen that looked as if it had already been set to rights.

"He wanted to check up on me, actually."

Sirius helped her inside and insisted on forcing her into a Cushioned chair as he bustled to get her coffee. _Hes the one that got hexed and here he is looking after me._

"Where the bloody hell does that creep oaf get off on checking in after my--"

"I'm certain she meant in a purely professional capacity, Padfoot." Remus cut in.

Grateful for the werewolf's intrusion she said, "Yes, actually. Concerned with how I'm doing with Potions and how my health is holding up with the workload. Perhaps we'd be better off talking about this later, though. Molly made all this dinner and I've hardly eaten anything."

Mentioning food and the need for her to have A Thing, Sirius set about his task of walking her very gingerly to the living room where everyone else was sat and setting her up with the fluffiest cushions, transfiguring them larger and more burdensome when they didn't fit her size. Fixing her a plate himself and setting her up with pillows, he then conjured a blanket. By the time he went to transfigure a second blanket, she started laughing "Sirius Black, if you don't stop this instant I'll drown in literal fluff."

Everyone else looked at her--she did look rather ridiculous buried in the mountain of pillows Sirius had placed her in. He looked amused. "Sorry I want you to be comfortable, love. It makes up for the less than comfortable positions earlier--"

"THANKS SIRIUS YOU'RE SUCH A GENTLEMAN, MOLLY, WHAT IS IN THIS STEW, IT'S WONDERFUL--" Lea nearly yelled trying to change the subject, motioning towards the younger Order members sitting nearby.

Lea considered them friends and in a sense, colleagues in the Order, but she still had to work with some of these people in a professional capacity and keeping the slightest lens of propriety even amongst close friends or this strange kind of hodge podge family made her feel more secure.Young adults though they may be, several of them were still her students. Lea was still sheltered and withdrawn in many ways. Luckily Sirius caught on quickly and sat on the edge of the overly-cushioned loveseat. Lea stared at him before knocking at least six of the eight pillows off herself, readjusting the two that were left and snuggling closer to Sirius.

"So!" She said. How late are you staying Harry, Hermione, Ron?"

Through a mouth full of stew, sitting on the floor, pulling over one of the thrown-away cushions to sit on his lap to set the bowl upon, Harry said "Professor McGonagall said we should all be going back together sometime this evening."

The conversation changed subject several times, chatting amicably among themselves, a few Order members still scattered throughout the house despite the later hour.

Toasts were made, stew eaten, Sirius's buttons loosened and he scooted closer, unabashedly pulling Lea closer to himself. He did check regularly with her to make sure she was okay with this or that touching. The man could be at once both so smothering and so conscientious. he was a truly confusing man. His brooding moments were rare but very powerful, all of his emotions seeming to play on his sleeve, but an entire array of different , darker, more tempestuous thoughts beneath the surface. Another man that Lea felt she may never fully understand.

*****

Most had left--it was Lea, Sirius, Tonks and Lupin. McGonagall had already left with Hermione and Ron, Dumbledore departed with Harry.

Tonks and Remus were sitting across from them, in matching, overstuffed chairs. Their feet were angled towards one another, talking in low tones about this-or-that latest event. Lea looked at them, then back at Sirius and smiled, looking at her lap.

"Will ya'll just fuckin' make out already?"

They both blanched, looking at her. "WHAT?", Tonks nearly yelled. Remus cheeks turned a bright crimson. "I hardly think--" he sputtered.

Sirius laughed, guffawing fully, nearly toppling Lea over as he gripped her closer and doubled up. She had to force to extricate herself. "Seriously, ya'll have more unresolved sexual tension than any season of daytime television." she intoned.

Remus started in now. The man was thinking with his head instead of his heart again. It was clear the young witch was besotted with him. "I'm certain if not by my age alone, it would hardly be appropriate-"

"Are you calling Sirius a nonce?"

"WHAT?" this time it was both of the men's turn to yell as Tonks looked on, smile far too wide, enjoying this tomfoolery way too much.

"I'm near to Tonks age. Sirius and you went to the same year, correct? We are both about a decade apart, maybe a bit more. So tell me, are you calling your best friend a nonce? Or do you say 'pedo' here?"

They both were quiet now as Remus started in, "I'm just saying, take or leave it, maybe I'm wrong and if so, my apologies. But you're too uptight Remus and life is too long. And before you say a damn thing about wolves, don't talk nonsense to me. My parents raised me. I'm living proof every conjecture you have can be disproven."

The others looked awkwardly at her as the silence was deafening, so she went, "So, Firewhiskey?"

"There's my girl!" Sirius pulled out a small glass for each of them.

Lea said, "This will be my last tonight I think,

" Sirius nodded. "Sounds good, love. Remus? Tonks?"

They each took one and agreed it was getting to be late, but they would relax with this last one and would both Floo to remain safe. "No drunken splinchings today", Sirius admonished. He pretended not to notice how much Lea winced at that word.

"To Lea", he said. She looked at him. "Please don--"

"TO LEA." He roared, his loud voice echoing in the otherwise empty room. They chuckled as she feigned covering her ears. "To bring a bit of happiness in this Black heart. " she did not laugh at his own joke. He did. This, in turn, made her laugh.

"She has the mouth of a sailor, but it tastes oh so sweet." They continued to talk for about half an hour, in which time Remus told a story about the first time he heard Pomfrey yell at Lea for her use of flagrant language around the children and how it was the only time he'd seen her threaten to nearly hex a person.

"She's scarier than Minerva in all her fury, that..." Lea acknowledged. The hour not yet midnight, the fire burning low, Tonks and Remus turned in the fireplace and POPPED out of existence. Nobody said anything , but Lea and Sirius smiled when they both called out to the same place.

************

Sirius felt the first sob wrack her smaller body as he laid above her. He pulled up off of her, looking down on her heavy-lidded, hair mussed. He looked an angel, but for the cracks on his swollen lips, the bruises on his elbows and knees, the ribs sticking out at odd angles. He looked cut from marble, his soft features of his youth she had seen in the moving and Muggle photos cut with haunting angles of his bones jutting out.

The years had not been kind. Sirius was intending to make them kinder, whether they agreed or not. He looked at her now, his crotch angled above her pointing down, as if signalling what his body wanted but would not get. he pulled away from in between her legs where they had been making out, shirt off but pants on for him, all clothes on for her.

He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

"Are you regretting being with me, doll? Is that it?"

She looked over. "No! Sirius. Not at all. I'm just...gonna have difficulties. It's not about you."

He sat and looked at his hands for a moment. "I'm not trying to be a git, alright, listen, I'm just confused. You were all on top of me a moment ago, and then--"

"It's trauma, Sirius. It's not going to make sense. Don't you ever have moments that are perfectly good, and then suddenly your mind is somewhere you didn't intend to be ?"

He looked down, quiet. "Of course I do, pet. " He nearly said it petulantly, but held his tongue, his lips pursed tightly.

She was quiet, "Did you want me to leave?"

He looked over now, somehow angry. "What in everything that I've said makes you want to leave? Did I not tell you already I don't want you going anywhere? Will you stop trying to be rid of me--look at me, _Please_ pet, will you look at me for once? "

He turned around, crawling over her now and straddling her with his lithe body, one elbow holding him up, one turning her head to his. "Look at me."

Lea did, her eyes wide, her lips parted. She saw hunger in Black's eyes grow and her eyes widened for a second in fear, she didn't see this side of him often, only in the very midst of passion, very deep into the act right before orgasm. She wasn't sure how she felt about this side. "Why won't you give into me pet? Do you find me so repulsive? Your body sings another tune." His voice was low, melodious. This was a dangerous game he played.

"I...I do like it. I can't help what my body does, I can't, I--" she couldn't finish. Her voice was choking up.

"Give in to me, Pet" he said, above her. "Give into me." His weight shifted to one knee, as he moved over, leaning on one side of his hips, leaning his other knee pressed hard into her sex. She moaned. He ground harder. She let out a choked sob. He went to grab the side of her neck, squeezing gently but not cutting off circulation.

Sirius forcefully kissed her, his body grinding into her as he growled into her mouth, her choking out what little breath she could from her nose while he kissed her forcefully, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth parting meekly beneath him. Lea sobbed into his mouth as he rubbed his cock into her parted legs against her pubic mound. He pulled away for a second and looked at her, legs stilled. His arm was off her neck, resting instead on her chest. He pushed a strand of hair off of her face, wiped tears from one of her eyes. "Do you want me to continue pet?"

She just started crying silently, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I won't continue, say the word, pet." She struggled to speak going nonverbal, her body having theatrics with the war in her brain. "Let me take control. Stop fighting me. It's okay to cry.." She mewled, letting out a strangled cry as he grabbed her throat again, this time saying, "We can stop now, or I can release you." She shuddered and moaned, her head leaning back, and he cooed in her ear. His knee releasing her from its assault on her mons as he pulled his shorts off with one foot, then another.

"Sweet girl, good girl," He murmured in her ear, licking and sucking and nipping his way down to her decolletage. Naked now, he held each of her biceps down as he bent down and roughly bit one of the nipples through he fabric in her shirt. Lea yelped, her hips bucking into him as he chuckled darkly and continued by lathing his tongue over the fabric, soaking it. Her lover released one hand to rip down the soft fabric, stretching it out. His tongue continued to take it directly into his mouth as he moaned loudly. Lea let out a breathy gasp at his moan, grinding against him weakly.

Sirius growled hungrily, nearly forgetting the captive audience beneath him as he released whatever it was within himself he'd kept hidden in their earlier encounters, only peeking out. He had been passionate, dominant, masculine-but this was something else. Something more primal, deeper inside, coming from a part of him booking no argument and taking her apart from the inside out. 

Sirius grabbed and ripped her shirt nearly off her body, rudely pulling the destroyed ends of the light, olive-green fabric off of Lea's body in a second tear. Her arms weakly came up to shield his until he smacked then away and growled at her, his eyes rising up. She looked at him.

"I'll fuck you in my dog form if you keep fighting me, pet." Her eyes got wide, hoping that he has at least half joking.

Sirius leaned back onto his knees, his thick arousal showing from the soft clutch of dark curls nested between his legs. His thick cock was already mostly full mast, dripping lazily with precum at the end.

He saw her staring. "Do you want to feel that inside you, girl? Look at me, sweet one. Do you want to feel this in here?" He reached over and felt the fabric on the top of her pubic v, going down to where her slit was. Sobbing, she nodded, her breath coming in gasps. He felt it seep through the soft fabric. "Good girl." he whispered, his eyes glazing over as he stared at her. Sirius quickly pulled off the pants, her hips being yanked up as he yanked the offending garment off. _No panties. Perfect._

"Good, sweet girl...yes..." He whispered to himself more than her, reverently staring down at her labia. He parted her legs easily when she put up a meek resistance. Clamping down with his body weight so she was stuck, he pulled his wand. "Bit archaic for me, but here you go." He swung it and a pretty red ribbon laced around her hands, binding them behind her head. It pulled her arms up, showing her breasts.

Lea sat there paused, staring at him, eyes open, wide. Sirius leaned down and for all that he was quick and ravenous the first time he ate her out, today he took his time. He licked up and down her soft folds, already slick and moist before he even touched her, as she cried above him, shaking to his torturous ministrations.

When he began the softest, tiniest, barely-there circles up and down her clitoris she nearly began yowling. Thankfully they were alone in the house. He kept licking it softer and softer the more she squirmed.

Sirius grabbed her hips forced them down with one arm, the other lightly playing at her entrance. Lea screamed as she came into him, translucent, watery spurts of squirting cum shooting out into his mouth. He lapped it up hungrily, drinking it down. He opened his mouth to show her the offending liquid, a soft milky white, as his other hand came to replace the tiny, barely-there circles on her clit. She was shaking now, overstimulated, and still he did not stop.

Lea couldn't speak, words seeping out, as he continued the tiny, barely-there circles. She was not able to handle it at all,, crying out now, orgasm after orgasm, and still he did not stop the tiny, barely-there circles.There was a very large, severely-there circle of her wetness beneath them when he came up and released her hands wandlessly. She tried to crawl away but he crawled on top of her body, clamping her down. He was deceptively strong.

He wasn't as tall as some of his Order Cohorts, but Sirius was heavily lined with corded muscle and he stank of heavy sex and precum as his thick cock started to play at her entrance.

Lea was hazy eyed, barely gripping onto him now with her small hands grabbing what skin she could of his back for some purchase. He put himself at her entrance and started pushing in with no other resistance. Both her inner and outer, her mons and her clitoris were swollen from his repeated ministrations, but her entrance, not having been entered, was still yet pliant and it hurt to feel the full girth of him entering.

Sirius grunted into her ear. "Good girl, yes, stay there, spread for me, relax, good girl, yes..." grunting, growling into her name into her ear. Sweet nothings, comforting her as he defiled her. He growled as he took her, taking more than ten minutes to fully enter, the same, slow, nearly-there dance of orgasms racked her frame. She was in pain.

She looked at him wide-eyed as he brought a hand up to wipe away the strand of hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. "Shhhhh" he cooed, kissing away her tears. "That's a sweet girl now. You're mine now, you understand?" he whispered. Lea growled and choked as he pushed more into her, feeling her resistance, he waited, then pushed more until he was nearly fully seated.

"Oh, fuck," he started saying as he kept pounding into her further and further, again and again. Sirius started choking her in earnest now, first lightly on the sides of her neck with both hands, now with one. Now a light pull of the hair to keep her up. Black was a quick study and would learn her favorite tricks after one session, using these to his advantage. He released her neck as her breaths returned to her usual, gasping moans.

"Calm now, cum girl, cum for me..." he said as her walls exploded around him, clenching his penis tightly and nearly spelling his early release. The tears didn't stop him. He knew they were tears of release. She needed this, he would make her see it, and he needed it to.

"You are mine." he growled into her ear. "Say it."

She shook her head. "Say." he grounded into her hips. "It" . She shook her head again, not wanting to speak. Sirius began pounding into her furiously, she still not fully adjusted, started nearly screaming with each thrust as she sobbed out. He looked at her. "Say"--

"I'm yours."

"Good girl."

She lost herself, Lea having just her second orgasm in just as many minutes, gripping his back with her hands, nails digging. He thrusted into her at full tilt now, losing all abandon. Not yet near completion, he rode her for nearly an hour, her long since exhausted around him, body nearly limp, wet with juices, pussy still clinging desperately and wetly at his hard form before he burst into her.

Sirius held her now, not pulling out until she was ready, kissing her face, her lips, her nose, kissing away her tears, kissing her until her breath rose and fell in softer rhythm .

Black waited a while until she had rest before he took her again. Several times that night, long past the point of exhaustion he took her, and each time he made her say it. "Mine. You are mine."

And each time he called her _'good girl',_ and held her as she cried and came around him, clinging to him. When he tried to get up to leave to use the restroom, she sobbed at his leaving, grabbing at him. Sirius pulled her into himself, holding her for an hour or two until light started to show. She had long since cooled in his arms, him stroking her hair, offering her water, helping her to the restroom, making sure she took her medicines. He wiped her brow, spelled her clean, dressed her in warm clothes. Lea lightly hiccuped as he kissed away her tears, nobody else in these intimate moments.

He warded his Floo and door locked and silenced. he held her firmly in his arms. It was a rock-solid grip and he breathed deeply of her scent as he bit her on the neck sharply. she woke up with a yelp . He licked her neck again and stroked her hair til she fell asleep. She fell asleep with his rock-hard cock still against his back, and woke up with it against her.

"Don't forget." He whispered in her ear as she woke. He kissed her delicately but fully, he looked at her. "Don't speak." He went and grabbed them breakfast. Anytime she went to get up and go about her day without rest, he barked at her, and told her to lay down. Sirius made sure she ate, and when she was finally so overwhelmed with exhaustion she passed out again, sleeping most of the afternon. He rarely left her side except for once to use the restroom. He sat by her watching, holding her gently as she slept, nightmares racking her small frame as he coaxed her gently back to sleep in his arms. Lea awoke several times to his gentle caress as he wiped her hair out of her eyes, spelled the sweat off of her, kissed her, so, so, _so_ gently on the lips before whispering her back to sleep.

"Sweet pet, my one and only love..." he cooed, as she laid still in his arms, breathing steady and warm.


	21. Chapter 21

**CW for semi-graphic mentions/discussions of rape and hate-based violence, bigotry  
**

**December 14, 1997**

"Let's talk, love."

"Okay."

They sat. "Are you doing alright?"

She thought. "I'm fine."

"Are you upset at all? How are you feeling?"

"No word good. Do we have to talk about this?"

"You know we do." She sighed.

He said, "Do you regret it?"

"No." She said quietly.

"Are you upset with me? Did you feel forced..or...or uncomfortable?"

"I no--! Well I mean it was uncomfortable at parts, but I guess that was the point wasn't it?"

"I mean, did you feel coerced? Were you okay with it?"

She stared quietly at her hands. "I...It felt....really good but...confusing..."

Sirius started now to look frantic, alarmed, almost scared underneath his usually cool demeanor. "I.. I don't want to hurt you-"

"You didn't. Not really. Not majorly , at least."

"Do you want to sto--"

"You know I don't. Don't make me say it."

"I have to."

"I...no I don't want to stop."

"Do you want to continue?"

"I..please don't make me--"

"I must. Do you want to continue?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes...I want to continue. Whatever...this is. I don't like having to think about it."

Having discussed the consent in the light of day, he sat down now and scooted across the bed towards her and opened his arms. The small Healer scooted into his chest and _nuzzled_ him as his arms snaked around her. He knew her body, knew what she felt, but Sirius needed to hear her confirmation of his fears--that she did truly want this, this was truly consenting, that his feelings weren't one sided or forced on a party who was too shy to say anything, no matter how her body reacted.

He smiled now as he closed his eyes and smelled her hair deeply; that scent, that part that hit him so deeply. Lea looked up at him as he spoke. "You don't like thinking doll, but sometimes it's necessary--don't give me that sour face, pet." He said leaning closer, brushing her hair absentmindedly as he pulled her into him anew. "You've been marked."

"Marked? Okay, now you're talking nonsense," She said pulling away.

Black laughed. "You were marked when I met you, pet. I was only finishing what was already there. I can't take something that was already freely given."

She pushed away from him now. "Okay this is gone from consent talk to psychobabble. 'Marking'? Like my skin? The fuck are you on about? "

He looked at her and sighed deeply, his eyes starting to become wary, alarmed even. _Oh god, what have I said too soon.._. "It's an Animagus term, but it affects some werewolves too--I. It's a magical thing. sometimes when our magic...imprints in such a way, a mark been made. It's something between two people with a strong connection. It's always consensual. It just shows...not ownership but...kinship, kind of. Guidance." He stammered out quickly, hoping he hadn't played his cards too loose.

"And how can I be 'marked' by someone I've never met? How can you even tell?" Lea said, unconvinced.

Sirius looked at her, grabbing her delicate hands in his as she turned to face him, her knees curled up as she sat between his open legs. "I need you to suspend your disbelief for a moment. Do you trust me?"

She regarded him. "You know the answer to that question."

"And yet, I asked it, pet."

"Yes, I trust you." Lea confirmed quietly.

Sirius regarded her soberly for a moment, as if debating something. "I could tell by your smell. When I first met you as Padfoot. You had a...scent. One I recognized. One that already hit a very primal part of me. My magic recognized it, though I couldn't really imagine what that meant until we were actively.... _together_." He looked at her eyeing her delicately, the cogs in her brain turning.

"But...we've never met. How is this possible?" Lea looked at him, wide-eyed and skeptical.

"It's old Magic. It doesn't mean we have met before--not in this lifetime at least--sometimes things like this just...happen. There are stories. Though, it's rare. perhaps we met in another life, pet. I just...our bodies know each other. I know it. We were meant to be. You can't deny this connection. Would you ever give yourself over to me so freely, of your own volition, if you felt otherwise?"

She looked at him now then looked away. "This is a lot. I...I need to think."

His eyes looked as if his heart dropped into his chest. _You fool, you have scared her off now with your ridiculous notions._ Sirius tried to suck it up and do his best genial host. "Of course, doll. Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm behind on Potions. Can I just go to work? It will distract my mind..."

"oYu haven't eaten yet today, Poppet. "

"I...I can feed my--"

"Eat." He said, booking no argument. "If you insist on starving yourself and not taking care of yourself, I will do it. Now, it won't be heavy, mind. And yes, I will make you food, you ninny...now go..." he shushed her out of the room to clean and change as he ran his hands through his hair. Having things out in the open now and verbally articulating what he had been feeling but not fully realized was heavy even on him.

As Lea walked out of the room quickly, she heard a curse followed by what sounded like glass breaking.

Walking back into the room, she saw Sirius looking forlorn with his head between his hands, leaning on his elbows against the tall dresser. He turned around as soon as she opened the door and went to try to clean up. Lea walked forward and launched herself into her chest as safely as she could without him hitting glass. "I feel what you feel." Lea confirmed, so quietly she could barely speak, head muffled by his chest. "I...I do...It's just..scary...can I have time to take all this in?" Lea stared up at him now, her in his eyes . The protective, partially-human part of him took hold and he grabbed the side of her face with both of his larger hands, gently and kissed her face as softly as he could. Breathing into her and proving with his body every intention, every part of him that felt something for her, she moaned.

Sirius felt her back aiming towards the post of the bed behind hr and put his hand behind her hand to cradle into her hair and prevent her from hitting the hard wood of the dresser behind her. Their kiss deepened, going from slow, gentle exploration nearly as a dance, a question, a worship, before growling into her and a desperate moan escaping his lips, so unlike his usual brusque exterior. As Lea stood on her tippy-toes to kiss him he grabbed her bottom with both hands and pulled her against him, her arms wrapping further around his neck, thick thighs closing around his taut waist. They continued to kiss passionately as she opened her eyes.

"I'd love to continue but I'm so sore from last night I"ll be useless. Can I--"  
  
"Be quiet, Pet. Your job is not to think today, you are to go shower and then I will get you dinner. Do you understand? Pet? Is that okay?" she smiled at his care for her. So tender, yet so decisive, wanting to rule her every need but taking time each time to make sure she was okay with this journey, every step of the way. Lea wondered internally how he would be without his hesitancy, if they knew each other better. She felt one word growled against her, under his breath, as he hugged her deeply one last time before she left the room, his hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back.

_"Mine."_

******

It was about an hour later, the sun having just set despite it not yet being 7 in the evening, that Lea heard a _crack_ of a house elf followed by a bang on her bathroom door. She heard a deep-voice say, "Ms. Beauvais? You have a visitor. They say it is urgent."

"Thank you Kreacher."

Jumping out of the shower and grabbing an oversized bathrobe around herself, hair tangled and loose around her, dark from the wetness, she pulled her wand out and spelled the door open, pointed out. She saw a very disgusted Snape looking at her.

"Pardon me Professor..." she said, pulling her wand down and spelling her hair up behind her with a nonchalant wave. "Is everything alright?"

Severus looked anywhere but at her. The American witch might be less mindful about being conservatively dressed than some of her English cohorts, but she wondered if it was propriety and not shyness that had him share his eyes elsewhere. "I will be indisposed this evening, and I will be unable to make _Lupin's_ Wolfsbane. It needs to be started within the half hour in order to be procured in time for his....condition to not take affect tomorrow. " He nearly spat the name of the werewolf.

Lea looked at him, eyes wide. She nodded mutely and went to walk out after him to begin the potion immediately when Snape's hand pulled out and stopped her by pushing her on the chest--clinically, detached, as high up as he could reach. "Stop," he said, chillingly. She looked up as his hand dropped down. He pushed her back slightly, eyeing her fully up and down. As if he was trying to determine if bubotuber pus was ready to be added to the mandrakes. Clinically.

His long, graceful white fingers of his right hand grabbed her forearm gently and pulled it towards him. The fluffy light-blue robe fell away from her wrist as he pulled it up and turned inwards, showing her inner forearm to him. His other hand came up and lightly stroked a bitemark she had incurred throughout the night and hadn't had time to spell away.

She expected any litany of insults, degrading, chiding, but instead, she was mystified. The man never ceased to surprise her. His voice was so delicate it was almost a whisper, as thought talking to a small child or trying to comfort an injured animal . "Is he hurting you?" She looked up and saw unknown emotion in his fathomless black eyes. He rubbed the bitemark harder and harder with one thumb until it started to tingle.

"What? No. Not...not like that anyway." she looked down red cheeked and embarrassed, not at the idea of having sex, but having been discussed in this vulnerable and intimate position as her arm jerked away from him instinctively. He pulled away as though burned. Was he offended by her jerking away? Lea did not know. She looked up at him.

"If he ever...I"ll kill him. I swear to god I will kill him in his own home."

"I know," she said, quietly, but her eyebrows furrowed. It had left her mouth before she had even said it--how did she know this? Why was she even discussing this with the Potions master?

_No matter,_ she thought, as she knew she had to get back to work.

"I need...I have to..." he stood aside, she walked out and into eyesight of Sirius.

"Sirius, it's Moony. That time of the month, I have to make the brew. Kabosh on the plans, I'll be busy the next 14 hours. if you want to play food bitch I'd appreciate the help." He smiled wanly but his eyes kept darting to the tall man behind him, presumably glowering.

"And why can't our resident _Professor_ make this brew?" Sirius spat, disgusted both by the tall man eyeing him with contempt and seeing his lover in a state of undress around his most hated rival, second only to the Dark Lord or perhaps Pettigrew.

Sirius saw the deadly-eyed man open his mouth as if to retort but it was his consort who spoke first. "We can't ask that Sirius, double blind. It's part of my job. I brew, I don't ask questions. I don't want to know or think about it. We both know I can't stop any intrusions into my mind. Don't even ask. " Sirius nearly looked mutinous at this response. The Potions Master was positively gleeful at seeing the man set straight. A wide, Cheschire-cat smile on his face. it made his already sharp features even sharper.

The annoyed woman walked past them down the stairs, flickering her wand in complicated patterns as her door opened and clothing, shoes, and gear shot past her head down the stairs, in a neat, single file line, presumably to follow her to the makeshift lab. It wasn't until she went to change into her brewing robes that Lea would notice the bite mark had disappeared.

****

"If you ever so much as leave another mark where I can see--"

"She is not with you, Snivellus. years later and you're still pining over women who won't give you the time of day. I would have never thought Herbology was your forte, all of these _flowers_."

It took all within Snape to not flick out his wand and kill him. As it were, his left arm had been burning for the better part of half an hour, and was getting steadily worse. Severus knew he would alraedy face at least one round of the Cruciatus curse and would face more the longer he waited.

_It might be worth it to make sure the dog gets his day..._ Severus thought to himself.

"If you continue to mark her like a common street whore, I will make sure you aren't able to walk, let alone dig or chew in the dirt, or whatever passes as romance for you, dog."

"Ah yes, the white knight, come to save women from their captors. Did it ever occur to you she _liked_ those marks? Begged for more, in fact..."

"Oh for FUCKS sake." They looked over at an angry Lea. Fully changed into her proper robes. "I don't want either one of y'all if you continue to act like children, I will sew my labia together and enter chastity if it means we can do what the Order needs and not deal with this. This was clearly my fault. I will deal with it if it continues to be so."

She stormed away in her long-sleeved muggle t-shirt and black slim-fit black jeans she wore with proper witches robes over top and black boots. _How ironic, she looks like the great bastard in that outfit_. Sirius shoved the thought further inward.

She exited her suite with several of her plants floating in tow, a few more boxes and containers of unknown origin trailing behind.

She turned to Snape. Her manner was more composed.

"My apologies if my actions lead to...whatever this was. For either of you." she said turning to Sirius. "But I'm not whatever happened between y'all 20 years ago. You both know that." Before either could say anything, she turned to walk away before turning back half a second. The two men stood there thoroughly shamed, all of their bluster and masculine pride shuddered under their high red points on their cheeks (well, grey, in Severus' case) and their glowering eyes.

"We're out of ashwinder eggs and dragonfly thorax, Sir." she said, turning to Snape. "Dinners at 9. Kreacher made steak. Tell him thank you for me...please." She walked away, her small shoulders carrying the weight not only of the very stilted conversation she just left, but the rest of the blustering pride of the two men left in her wake.

Snape Disapparated loudly, with a growl. Sirius spent ten minutes in his room staring at a bottle of his Dad's 200 year old red before cracking it open.

******

**August 19, 1995**

It burned. He tried to ignore it sometimes. He could beg off for a few minutes, a few hours even. However allowing his health to the capricious whims of a megalomaniacal Machiavellian madman was not in the cards for a healthy outcome. Snape came as soon as he was called, this time. A Firewhiskey deep, he thumbed at the small vial of 'sober up' potion he kept near his bottle for just such occasions. Grabbed his mask and robe out of his warded wardrobe and Disapparated.

There was the snake, and his consort, in snake-like, humanoid form. The Death Eater bowed low to the ground, not daring to look up or speak. He saw the feet of other Death Eaters on retention at Malfoy Manor standing about.

"Severus". The sibilance rang in the air as the last _s_ trailed lightly.

"My Lord." Severus continued to kneel low on the ground, nearly flat against the earth.

"Look at me, Severus." Severus looked up, a ring in his face. He kissed it, once twice, a third time as eyes thin as slits stared at him, languorously drinking in the erotic sight of this stalwart man bowing so low... The ring withdrew. "Stand."

He stood. "Severus," The dark lord said, walking around what looked like one of the sub-floors of Malfoy Manor. "I hear you were not present at our Dark Revel tonight."

"You requested me to stay at the castle, My Lord. Am I needed? I live to serve your every command," this level of pandering was said with absolutely no inflection whatsoever, nor any expression on his face, though none could be seen beneath the mask, anyway.

"Yes, we hear you are needed. Dolohov summoned me. Said it sounded...Important. They are in need of someone with your skills to ....learn more about a target there. A pureblood. A blood traitor." A murmuring of anger and muttered curses came from the crowd at the mention of a blood traitor but quickly died down as the Dark Lord raised one paper-white hand.

Severus said nothing.

"She has some papers with her--formulas. They believe she may be more involved than we think. You will go to her, learn everything you know. If she is useful, see if she can turned to our side. If she knows nothing, or Dolohov has made her too...unpliable" there was general laughter from the Death eaters--"kill her."

As he nodded, "My Lord." and turned to leave, he heard over his shoulder, "And Severus..."

He turned back around.

Severus steeled himself for the familiar intrusion into his mind. Voldemort slid past images of prior raids, Muggle baitings, interspersed with some abusive childhood memories, a fleeting image of Lily and Potter, some of him reading in his office. After focusing on what Voldemort saw for a good moment he said, "Good. It hasn't been so long you've forgotten. If you get there early enough, you may even get first try."

There they are. The memories he's spent the longest years trying to forget. Being relived through his own brain for him. Tom focused particularly on the ones he liked the least, but he played with the most gratuitously. A young, fresh-faced 19 year old virgin Snape, nearly forced to shove his cock into a crying Muggle, her bleeding on him profusely. Barely old enough to graduate, Severus suspected she may not even be of legal age.

A schooled 20 year old Severus, torturing Muggleborns, now smiling, now laughing, now used to the deadness inside. A wizened and darkened Severus a year ago, six months ago , a month before that, sitting in at Revels and occasionally made to enter them, to ensure he was being 'part of the fun'. Only a few of the men truly enjoyed these, truly jumped into them with as much gusto as could be. Even Lucius, so heavy as he played the dominant domineering pure blood supremacist got queasy and nearly always made excuses for hwy he couldn't touch this or that witch or kill this or that child. Funnily enough, none of these men and few women had any issue when _others_ did the killing, they seemed to somehow find their conscious less guilty as if they were the ones free and clear if they didn't personally do it.

And yet, here still were the memories. The parts that Voldemort played the most were not the self disgust he expected of every member, it was the joy, the thrill of the fear, the sweat on the brow and the remembering of a rock hard cock piercing into blood for the first time and not finding it wholly unpleasant. Here, in his own personal nightmare, did Voldemort finally pull away roughly out of his head.

Voldemort smiled, happy with what he saw. "A yes, you do remember. Have some _fun_ with her. You do certainly get so caught up in that drafty dungeon. Certainly your other _skills_ haven't been so long without honing? Make her your own, celebrate with your brothers."

His voice somehow not cracking after years of practice, Severus simply intoned, "Thank you for this Gift, My Lord."


End file.
